Papa Chéri
by neko-nya
Summary: Years after the war, Arthur finds an abandoned child in a hotel lobby with nothing but a bear and a letter from his 'papa'. Now, 14 years later, Matthew and his brother head off to Paris in hopes of finding the one he'd called 'papa' all those years ago.
1. Prologue

Papa Chéri

Prologue:

_Montreal, 1948_

It was a cold night when a sleeping boy was placed on the floor of the lobby of a certain hotel. With everyone bustling about, no one paid him any attention let alone noticed the boy. Clutching the bear in his arms tightly, the child stirred. The man hesitated. But when the child continued sleeping soundly, he let out a heartbroken yet relieved sigh and placed a final kiss on the other's head. If he opened his mouth to say the farewells he wanted to, he knew he wouldn't be able to go through with what he was about to do. So, brushing a few strands of silky hair out of the boy's face and holding his breath, he turned and left the building and into the snow where his driver was waiting for him.

The chauffer gave a polite nod, "Êtes-vous prêt, monsieur?"

After a long stare towards the hotel, he nodded and stepped into his ride with a sullen, "oui, allons-y."

* * *

Arthur Kirkland walked into the lobby after finally finishing another meeting and took off his top hat to brush off the snow when he noticed something small leaning against a wall near a large potted plant. Catching sight of blond hair and a small figure curled up, he frowned and made his way over.

He couldn't help but feel a little irritated; after all, he'd told Alfred not to leave the room well over a dozen times now. He looked down at the sleeping boy he'd adopted nearly a year ago and sighed, "Come on, let's head back, lad," he muttered, picking the boy up. The boy muttered something in his sleep, hugging the bear close to him and Arthur wondered idly where he'd gotten such a thing but passed it off as nothing since he knew well enough that children had a natural talent for finding the most random things.

* * *

When he finally reached his room, he blinked when he realized that the door was locked. Hopefully their room hadn't been broken into…gulping slightly, he unlocked it and went inside. It was silent. Quietly, he let out, "…is anyone here?"

"Artie, you're back!" Was the excited reply as a little boy ran up to him and gave his legs a tight hug.

"A-Alfred!?" He looked down at his adopted son then to the boy in his arms, "what's going on?"

The boy merely tilted his head curiously, "who's that?"

Not wanting to admit that he'd mistaken another boy for him, he shook his head and placed a finger to his lips, "shh, keep it down lad, he's still sleeping, I'm going to put him to bed first then I'll tell you, alright?"

Making his way to the bedroom, he put the boy down and inwardly hoped that no one was looking for him. The resemblance between the boy and Alfred was uncanny. The boy rolled onto his side, still asleep, and revealed an envelope that'd been tied to the stuffed animal's neck. Curious, he detached it and opened it, hoping that there'd be some clue as to who to return the boy to. But instead, inside was a letter addressed to, he assumed, the sleeping boy…

_Mon Mathieu chéri,_

_Je suis vraiment désolé…_

_Ton papa,  
__F.B._

Even though he wasn't particularly skilled at French, he understood exactly what the letter said. The note was short and straight to the point though the tail of the last é was dragged out a bit as though the writer had wanted to add more but decided against it. The Englishman sighed, well, that solved the question as to whether or not someone would be looking for the boy. He slipped the letter back into the envelope and put it into a nearby suitcase, there'd be no need for the boy to know he'd been abandoned by his father.

From the door, Alfred peered in curiously, "so who is he? Did you bring me my brother like I asked you to before?"

"That's right, you used to have a brother, didn't you…?" Arthur stole a glance at the two and thought about their likeness again. When he adopted Alfred, one of the caretakers had mentioned something about how the boy used to have a brother but the younger had been adopted months prior to his arrival.

* * *

"_He was supposed to come in a pair, but the younger one, Mattie, Matthew Williams, he was adopted by another gentleman a few months ago."_

"_Matthew Williams? Why are their surnames different?"_

"_The thing is, sir, if people knew they were brothers, their chances of being adopted would've lowered…people that come here generally only want one child, and if they found out the two were related, they would've felt obliged to take them both in and that simply wouldn't be a very…popular idea. Especially not after the war we've just been through, the people who can still afford to raise children are only looking for replacements for their sons, you know?"_

"…_I would've taken them both in…" he muttered grimly._

_The matron looked a little surprised before shooting him a sad smile, "Sir, as pleased as I am to hear that, I really wish you came a few months earlier, the boys would've been so happy. Poor Alfred cried himself to sleep for weeks when his brother left…"_

* * *

Really, he thought, there was only one truly logical reason for the boy's name and appearance. And to think he'd spent all that time trying to track down the other boy…

He straightened himself up and walked over to the child and picked him up, "you know what, Alfred? I believe I've just found your brother, this boy's name is Matthew, here, take a look at him, do you remember what your brother looks like?"

The boy's eyes widened as they drew closer, he let out in an excited manner "y-you really found Mattie for me!? How'd you manage to find him in the middle of nowhere!? How'd he get here!?"

Arthur gave a soft laugh and set him down beside the bed, "keep your voice down, lad, you'll wake him up. And if you must know, this place is called _Canada_, it's not the middle of nowhere."

Alfred protested at this, "But the orphanage was in _England_!"

"U.K," he corrected the child, "he must've been brought here by someone…"

The blond turned to him and asked, "Artie, when do you think he'll wake up?"

"It's the middle of the night, Alfred, I think it's about time you went to sleep as well."

"But I can't anymore! I'm too excited to sleep! You found Mattie!"

He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to suppress the smile on his lips from growing too big, "are you sure that's him, though?"

Alfred nodded, "yea, I wasn't a _baby_ when he got adopted, I was 4 already! Of course I remember my own baby brother! Watch, when he wakes up, his eyes will be sunset purple!"

And just then, their conversation must've woken the boy up because his eyes fluttered open and true to Alfred's words, they were violet. The child looked at the two in confusion and asked timidly, "où est papa?"

His brother immediately jumped up and down beside him, "you're awake, Mattie! Do you remember me? It's Alfred!"

The boy merely continued watching the two in question.

Hesitantly, Arthur decided that dealing with it in the morning would be a better idea and gave a small laugh. He picked up Alfred and tucked him in next to 'Mathieu', "go back to sleep Matthew, you too Alfred, you can play with him tomorrow."

Alfred gave an excited grin and immediately snuggled next to his brother who couldn't help but also smile softly at the happiness the older boy radiated. And soon, the two of them fell asleep, contentedly huddled together. It was only when he was sure that the pair were asleep that he turned the lights out and went back out to the main lounge, wondering how he was going to deal with the situation the next morning.

* * *

The next day, he was waiting for room service to arrive since there wasn't a kitchen in the room, when one of the boys walked up to him. He blinked, "Alfred? That's rare, you're up early. Is something wrong?"

The boy looked at him hesitantly, maybe even a little frightened, "j-je suis Mathieu, monsieur…"

Arthur blinked again, "oh? …oh! Matthew! Of course, I was just waiting for breakfast to arrive…" unsure whether the boy understood or not, he muttered clumsily in French, "petit…petit déjeuner…?"

Violet eyes shone in understanding and gave a nod.

Then there was uncomfortable silence between the two, so he tried asking the limited questions he knew in French, "quel âge as-tu?"

The boy held up four fingers, "j'ai quatre ans."

"Four years old, hm? You're a year younger than Alfred then…"

By that time, Matthew was staring at his feet, getting ready to ask him probably the same question from last night, "Excusez-moi…"

Just as he began, a yell came from the boy's bedroom. "Mattie!? Mattie!? Where'd you go!?"

Matthew gave a start and hugged his bear tightly before running back to the room he came from, a little panicked, "ici! Je suis ici!"

A relieved laugh came from the room. "Oh, there you are! Let's go see what's for breakfast," a moment later, a cheery Alfred appeared with the other in tow, "hey Artie, what's for breakfast?"

Arthur looked over at the two, "good morning Alfred, I ordered something light for this morning, it should be here soon. And then after, we can take Matthew to town to get him new clothes and such, he'll have to wear your clothes for now."

The boy was content with that answer and went back to playing with his brother, but then a minute later, his name was called again, "hey Artie?"

"Yes?"

"Mattie's speaking weird English."

He sighed, "It's called French, Alfred. It's alright, he's a smart lad, if you keep talking to him, he'll pick up English in no time."

Alfred nodded eagerly and turned his attention back to the other boy. He pointed to himself, "Hey Mattie, I'm Alfred! Al-Fred, now you try!"

The younger boy looked around hesitantly before doing as he was told, "Al…fu-red…?"

"Right, Alfred!"

Matthew's brows furled in concentration as he fixed his pronounciation, "Al-fred…"

"Good," he shot the younger boy a look of approval before pointing to the Englishman, "that's Artie! He's our dad now! Ar-ty."

"Arr-ty."

Alfred pursed his lips for a moment before shrugging, "close enough."

Arthur frowned, "hey, if you're going to teach him, at least make sure he gets everything right!"

The boy waved a hand offhandedly, "Don't worry about the tiny details! He'll get it eventually! Alright Mattie, let's go find some books to read! Can you say hee-ro?"

"Alfred! Don't just move on like that!" The man gave an exasperated sigh. He would've never expected the two to be so different but continue watching on as Alfred did all the talking and Matthew merely watched his brother wide-eyed and replied in that mild-mannered way of his.

Alfred continued keeping the boy so busy that he didn't even have time to cry for his papa. And soon, the word completely stopped coming out of his mouth altogether.

And before he knew it, fourteen years had already rolled by…

* * *

Nya~

Here's a serious-ish fic! So yes, sorry if my French is off. And I'm pretty sure it's obvious who papa is by now, but yea...lots of pairings coming up ahead, including GerIta, SpaRom, PruHunAus, and other family-relationship pairings though I suppose you wouldn't really call it pairings...anyways, below are a couple of translations you might want be curious about. And enjoy!

Translations:

Êtes-vous prêt, monsieur? - Are you ready, sir?  
Oui, allons-y. - Yes, let's go.  
Ici - here


	2. Chapter 1

Papa Chéri

Chapter 1:

_London, 1962_

He opened his eyes groggily and sat up. Stretching, he put his glasses on and looked across the room to find his brother still asleep in a bed that barely contained his height. He smiled at the sight of the other, it'd been such a long time since he slept in this house let alone share a room with Alfred again. Ever since the other turned 15, he began going through a rebellious phase where all he wanted was independence. Eventually, after countless fights with their guardian and the unbearable tension, Alfred moved to America and left them behind.

* * *

_"As long as you're staying in **my** house, you'll obey **my** rules, Alfred!"_

_"Then I'll leave! This place is suffocating me anyways!"_

_"Get back here, Alfred!"_

_"No! If you won't let me be independent here, I'll just go somewhere less oppressive!"_

**_Slam._**

* * *

His brother had offered to take him along, but still too young at the time, he politely declined and stayed in England with Arthur. That is, until he turned 17, graduated from high school and received permission from the Englishman to explore the world, and that was how he found his home and university in Canada where everything was slower paced and the people more mild-mannered than most. He still kept in touch with his brother and father, the former who became a successful businessman with his aggressive ways and charisma, skills that he'd never inherited from whoever their parents might've been.

Alfred hadn't really talked to Arthur ever since he moved away, but for this week, because of him, the two would be forced to stay under the same roof again. He was turning 18 and his brother would be 19 in another three days, and despite Alfred's protests, he'd insisted on celebrating in England with Arthur. Though disgruntled, Al also made his way over, claiming that he couldn't miss his baby brother's birthday.

Matthew smiled and got up, he made his bed, tucking in his stuffed bear, the one he'd had since forever, and walked up to the other's bed. "Al, hey Al, wake up."

"Hnn…" the other turned away from him and continued sleeping.

"Alfred, wake up!" He called out, a little more forcefully.

His brother opened an eye and looked over at him wearily, words spilling out of his mouth mindlessly, "Mattie…? You're up before me…? What time is it? 1? 2? I can't believe I slept in that much…I must be super jetlagged…all those hours on the plane doing nothing, and I was sitting by the window so I couldn't get a good look at the stewardesses and I was wearing a suit too…it was really hot and uncomfortable…man, I would kill for a burger right now. So what time is it?"

He pouted softly though he couldn't argue against his habit of sleeping until the sun started setting, "it's only 9:30 if you must know-A.M."

Alfred rubbed his eyes, "you're up so early for once…" then he jumped up and pounced at the other, "oh right! You're 18, aren't you? Finally becoming an adult! You know, we'll be the same age for three days, right? Savor it, this only happens once a year!"

Matthew laughed, "Thanks Al." A moment later, after sniffing the air and catching that burnt smell that'd become a common odor in the house, he sighed, "smells like breakfast's ready…"

The other nodded sullenly, though unlike the younger of the two, Alfred actually had little or no taste buds, it was a mystery as to whether they died from the man's cooking or he'd been born that way, but he'd always been better at clearing his plates at dinner for that reason. But then he looked over at the other's made bed and shook his head, "really Mattie, you're 18 now and you still sleep with that stuffed animal of yours! What do you call it again? Kuma…kuma…?"

The younger boy looked equally lost and reached over to grab the bear to check the tag. "It's Kumajiro, Al!"

He'd had that bear since he could remember. It had 'Kumajiro' written on the worn out tag and so, that's what he called it, and though Arthur had offered to remove it on several occasions, he'd refused since he could never really remember the bear's name. Scanning the tag and its faded writing, he smiled to himself. The pair had spent many nights amusing themselves with the Engrish that was written on it.

'_Kumajiro! _

_Bear of happiness!_

_Such cute soft bear, happiness sure comes with it!_

_Made in Japan.'_

Suddenly, an arm snaked around his shoulders and his brother began dragging him down the stairs, "come on, let's go see what kind of mutated food old brows conjured up for us, maybe it'll even be edible today since it's your birthday!"

Matthew laughed and allowed himself to be dragged away towards the kitchen. Once inside, the man, now shorter than the pair, turned around, "oh, you're both up! I was just about to go call you for breakfast."

Alfred sniffed the air, "so what's for breakfast? Smells deadly," he jibed lightly.

For the week, while they were in England, there was an unspoken agreement between the elder two that they'd at the very least, act civil towards each other if only for the sake of Matthew. Arthur snorted, "Appreciation never was a talent of yours, we're having the usual, toast, eggs, bacon and tea," then he added, "and yes Alfred, I remembered to brew coffee for you."

The elder brother shrugged and strolled over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of ketchup and a bottle of maple syrup, "great, let's eat then!"

The two had discovered that one method to make the Englishman's food tolerable was to coat the more or less edible substance with something else that tasted relatively good. And so, as they'd been doing for years, the two opened their respective bottles and began pouring the syrups onto the 'food'.

From across the table, Arthur wrinkled his nose in disgust despite having witnessed this sight for years now, "your eating habits haven't improved at all, the both of you…"

Neither of them answered, too busy concentrating on chewing as little as possible before swallowing. Choking had become a common occurrence in the Kirkland household because of this. And as always, Alfred was the first to finish with a triumphant cheer and a loud swig of his coffee, "beat you again, Mattie."

The younger boy's brows furled as he struggled to wolf down the last bit of his breakfast, "not by that much…"

"Really, you two are going to get indigestion from eating like that," the man muttered as he continued eating, "by the way Matthew, happy birthday. I'm really glad you two decided to spend your birthdays here…"

Violet eyes looked up and nodded, trying not to wince as the food slid down his throat, "thank you Arthur, of course we'd spend it here. I heard that you've been really busy lately, so you probably wouldn't have been able to travel, right?"

Arthur nodded and took a sip of his tea, "that's right unfortunately, but I managed to get a few days off for your birthdays."

Matthew glanced over at his brother who merely jutted his lips out in a slight pout, looking a little guilty, and smiled softly to himself.

* * *

After breakfast, somehow, the three found themselves in the library with photo albums opened. Alfred grinned when he saw a picture of himself in a Superman shirt, "I was a hero back then too."

Arthur nodded, "that was after our trip to America, you wouldn't stop crying until I bought it for you, and then you wouldn't stop wearing it."

Matthew laughed, "I remember that, you wouldn't let Arthur wash it even after you spilt food on it! It smelt pretty bad after awhile."

The American gave a huff and turned the page, "it was a really cool shirt! It's just too bad I grew out of it, but don't worry, I bought another one recently!" And as they continued flipping through, they stumbled onto the oldest album. The first half were all pictures of Alfred who nodded understandingly, "that's right, I was taken in first, wasn't I? Mattie came about a year later…"

They continued going through the pictures until the first picture of Matthew came into view. Arthur wondered just how much of it the younger boy actually remembered, "This was our trip to Montreal…and that's when Matthew showed up…" When the flipped onto the next page, an envelope appeared, aged but its cream colored material well preserved. The man's eyes widened when he realized that he'd left the letter there and that there was no way of hiding it now, "ah…"

Blue eyes blinked, "what's that? They spelt Mattie's name wrong."

On the front of the envelope, the word _Mathieu_ had been written on it, the black ink contrasting the discolored paper it'd been scribed on.

Matthew tilted his head curiously, "Arthur?"

Arthur cleared his throat, "ah this…well…" he hesitated for a moment, "Matthew, lad, as you know, you came into this family a year after Alfred, right? Do you remember anything before that?"

He shook his head, confusion clear on his face, "Not much, no…I was adopted by someone before Alfred, wasn't I? I remember Al telling me about it once, that I spent my time with someone else before you guys…"

The elder pair exchanged understanding glances, Alfred having caught on as well since they'd had that conversation before…

* * *

"_Arthur, why does Mattie keep asking for his 'papa'? You're his papa now, aren't you?"_

"_That's right Alfred, but remember that the lad lived with someone else, maybe another family for over a year before coming into ours. He must be missing his other father, try not to bring it up too much, alright? Make him feel as welcomed as possible."_

"_But he __**is**__ welcomed! He's my brother! I'm going to be his hero, now and forever!"_

_Arthur laughed and nodded in approval, "That's my boy."_

"_One more thing though…"_

"_What is it?"_

_Alfred was frowning now, "why isn't Mattie with them now? Did they just leave him there?"_

_He sighed and shook his head, "I don't know lad, and yes, they left him there…don't think too poorly of them, Alfred, they must've had their own circumstances to deal with…besides, Matthew's here with us now, right? At least he has us now, so make sure you treat him well."_

_The boy nodded seriously, "I will! I definitely will! I'll treat him so well, he'll forget he ever had another family, then he won't have to cry for that stupid family that left him behind anymore!"_

"_Alfred, didn't I just say…" _

_But the boy had already ran off._

* * *

Arthur continued, "I don't know how you're going to take this, so before I go on, just remember that this doesn't matter that much, you'll always have the two of us to turn to no matter what, alright?"

"That's right Mattie," he had to agree with Arthur on that point, "me and Artie are your family, now and always, no matter how many fights we get into."

Violet eyes watched the two uneasily, it must've been serious if they two were agreeing with each other. He could feel dread building up in his stomach, it might've been his breakfast but either way, it felt bad, "alright…of course you're my family…why? Is it something _that_ serious?"

The Englishman gave a small shrug, "that depends on you…so as you know, fourteen years ago, you came into our family. We've never really given you a clear explanation of what happened that night at the hotel. The truth is, Matthew, I found you in the lobby, you were sleeping and all you had with you was that bear of yours and this letter."

Matthew dipped his head slowly, "You found me…in a hotel lobby…I was left there by my old family?"

Arthur nodded, "at that time, all you spoke was French and you kept asking for your 'papa', do you remember any of that, lad? Do you remember anything about your family before us? Your 'papa' maybe?"

He looked up and thought hard.

Most of his childhood memories were centered around Alfred and Arthur…except that one little corner of his mind, the corner that only surfaced in his deepest sleeps and always disappeared by the time he awoke, so much so that he was convinced that he'd imagined it all. Most of the words spoken in his dreams had turned to gibberish except for strong arms holding him up and that voice calling to him, warm and kind, _"Mathieu, mon petit Mathieu…papa t'aime tant…"_

The image of the man had completely faded from his mind though he was convinced that if he saw the other, something like recognition would be sparked inside him. If he hadn't made up the voice or those words, he was convinced that someone with such a kind voice must've had an equally kind looking face and soft features…it saddened him to think that someone he must've loved so much left him behind. He looked back to his current father, "I think I remember a little about papa…I don't remember what he looks like or anything, but I remember papa somehow…this letter's from him?"

Arthur dipped his head, "That's right."

"Can I read it?" He asked hesitantly, did he _want_ to read it?

The man nodded again, "of course, it's your letter, there isn't much in it though…"

Alfred leaned over to see the contents as well, "…damn, it's in French! What does it say, Mattie?"

Arthur had tried pushing the two into learning the language, but in the end, only the younger boy ended up taking lessons while Alfred blatantly refused on the grounds that in England, one only had to speak English to get around. Matthew scanned over the words over and over again as though expecting more to suddenly appear. "…my dear Matthew, I'm really sorry. Your papa, F.B…that's it?"

His older brother had the same expression on his face, "…I was expecting a little more than that…that's really all he wrote?"

Arthur set his teacup down, "I'm afraid so. Are you alright, Matthew?"

He gave a weak smile, "yea, I'm alright, it's like you said, you two are my family now. Papa left me a long time ago anyways…"

"You're nearly an adult now," the man looked at him seriously, "you must think of it more objectively. As much as I dislike the French, I can sympathize with the man as a father. Your 'papa' may not have wanted to leave you, we've all had trying circumstances because of the war. I hope you're not too upset with this man."

Matthew shook his head, "you're right, he must've had his reasons. I'm not that mad at him, I ended up with you and Alfred, didn't I? It all worked out in the end as far as I'm concerned, so I don't really have much to be angry over…I'm alright, Arthur, really, it was just quite a bit to…" he covered his mouth and turned away a little, "digest all at once…"

From behind him, Alfred snickered at the subtle joke he made about breakfast and leaned over to wrap an arm around the younger boy, "that's my brother! No child ditching Frenchie's going to ruin your birthday!"

Arthur hastily closed the album, "that's right, speaking of which, let's pick a place to go to for supper tonight. Will you be keeping that?"

He nodded and folded the letter back up, "yea, if you don't mind."

"Of course not, lad, now let's get dressed and head out. There's no point in being stuck inside on such a fine day!"

The two quickly agreed and disappeared up the stairs to get changed.

* * *

But that night and the next, he kept rereading the letter and thinking about the Frenchman that should've been his 'papa'. It was near the end of the week when Alfred woke up and caught him with the letter in his hand, "Mattie? You're still up?"

He looked over and put the letter away hastily, "sorry Al, did I wake you up? I was about to go to sleep…"

The other blond frowned at him in the darkness, "you're still thinking about the Frenchie? He was a good for nothing person, that's what I think, F.B. probably stands for French bas-"

Matthew gave a small laugh, "that's probably not true…you've picked up Arthur's attitude towards the French, haven't you?"

A shrug, "Not really, it's more like towards that one specific person. So what are you thinking about? Do you remember anything about him?"

The younger boy shook his head, "not really, I remember a bit of his voice, but that's about it. I was actually wondering what kind of person he was, if he's alright now…"

Alfred had his glasses on by then, "and why he left you behind?"

There was a slow nod, "…yea, that too…"

There was a pause, then the older boy let out a sigh, "hey Mattie, do you think he's in France? I mean he could always be in that place above America…"

Matthew gave an exasperated sigh, "You mean Quebec? _Canada_? The country I _live_ in? You live in the country right under too, the least you could do is learn the surrounding countries' names, and I don't know, he could be anywhere, just because you speak French doesn't mean you _have_ to live in Quebec or France."

"But since we're in Europe right now…" the elder drawled, "France would probably be a good place to start an investigation, don't you think?"

Amethyst eyes widened, "Al, you don't actually mean what you're saying…"

Alfred shrugged, "I'm just saying, if you wanted to explore Europe a bit…I mean, you took the summer off, right? And I still have a few weeks left of my vacation leave and sick leave so I could keep you company, that's all. Besides, Quebec or whatever you called it, you can explore that on your own, can't you? It's been awhile since we went on a trip, and you have his initials to work with, don't you? Your 'papa's', I mean."

Matthew threw his covers off and jumped onto his brother, "seriously!? You'd be willing to do all this for me!? You're the best Al!"

The elder let out a sigh despite the smile on his lips, "Consider it your birthday present this year. Anyways, how many times do I have to remind you that I have amazing hero-like qualities?"

The other laughed, still hugging the older boy, "You're definitely my hero, Al, and the best brother in the world."

* * *

The next morning, they broke the news to Arthur who didn't look all too surprise, "so you two have decided to go look for this F.B. person?"

"Don't worry," Matthew quickly assured him, "you will always be my dad and Al my brother, nothing's going to change, I promise!"

The Englishman smiled, "thank you lad, that was thoughtful of you to say. I thought this might happen, I'm more worried about how you two are going to get around and where you'll be staying…oh yes, I found this yesterday," he slipped out of the room for a moment and returned with a piece of paper, "here are a couple acquaintances of mine that are in France at the moment, I'm sure they'll be able to help you out one way or another."

The younger boy accepted the piece of paper with a grateful smile, "thank you, I'll make sure we go find them."

Nodding, the man sat back down and poured himself a glass of tea, "I'm surprised you boys managed to figure out that he's in France…or did you throw darts at a map?"

Alfred swallowed another painful bite of his breakfast, "what do you mean figure out that he's in France? Do you know who 'he' is?"

Arthur shook his head, "the matron from your orphanage mentioned something about Paris, I tried asking her for more information but she couldn't do it, apparently people were coming and going without doing any of the paperwork and that man was one of them. He more or less just took the boy, handed them the money and left, and now the orphanage isn't even open anymore so…"

The elder boy frowned in disapproval, "you did this all this digging while Mattie was around?"

"No, no, it was before we found him, you kept begging me to get you your brother back so I thought that if I could find the man, I'd be able to at least set you two up as occasional playmates or something."

The confession caused Al to blush, "actually? You've never told me this before."

"Well I couldn't find him, and besides, and you were only 4 at the time," he sighed, "I wish I could accompany you boys on your excursion but my boss probably won't let me off for even a week."

Matthew shook his head and spoke hastily, "it's alright Arthur, you've helped us out a lot already! At least now we know he came from Paris or somewhere there, and he might still be there, right? It's a good start, and it doesn't really matter if I find him or not, really! As long as I've got you and Al, I'm happy! I'm really glad you found me, Arthur."

"Matthew…" The Englishman's eyes began growing misty but he quickly wiped away any evidence and nodded, "I should probably head to work soon. You two are practically adults now, but be careful anyways. Call me every now and then if you need any help and to let me know how your search is going, alright? I wish you the best of luck, and remember you're both my precious sons and these doors are always opened for you."

Alfred turned away, face reddening, "stop it! This is getting embarrassing! The both of are you are nothing but saps! It's not like we're leaving forever, it'll only be for a couple weeks, then we'll probably drop by here again for a couple days before heading back, right, Mattie?" The younger boy nodded, then he added embarrassingly, "…and of course you're still going to be our dad by the end of this trip, stupid brows."

"Alfred…" Arthur looked about ready to cry but he smiled, "you're right, I don't know why I'm getting so worked up over something so trivial. I should get to work now, good luck boys and try to stay out of trouble!"

After they were left alone, Matthew looked at his brother happily, "that was nice of you, Al."

"W-Whatever, it was just to get him to leave," the elder retorted quickly before getting up, "anyways, we should probably head over to France, shouldn't we? Are you ready?"

"Yea…"

"Alright, let's get going then," he grabbed his brother by the arm and dragged him out of the kitchen, "to the docks!"

* * *

Nya~

And they're off! In attempt to relive my childhood days, I went and bought Pokemon (Silver Soul yay!), the one that comes with the walker, and I'm not going to lie, walking's a little more exciting now. Playing Pokemon while listening to China's character song instead of doing my homework is a nice way to spend time. And yes, I will be continuing with all my other fics!

**Fun Fact**: In the 1960's flying was super expensive and it was mostly business men flying it. The stewardesses all wore short short skirts and there was a set price for all the airlines, so their ads mainly consisted of 'Come fly with us! We've got hotter girls!' And since it was pretty standard to dress nicely when flying, just because it was more or less a luxurious thing to do.

I also make a habit out of reading the Engrish on the pens and pencils I have that are from Asia. Anyways, thanks for reviewing! Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 2

Papa Chéri

Chapter 2:

_Newhaven, 1962_

After catching a cab to the train station and heading down to Newhaven, the pair purchased their tickets and waited. When the ferry finally arrived and was ready to be boarded, Alfred excitedly dragged his brother onto the boat, "hurry up Mattie, let's go!" Once they found their seats, he pulled out a pen and paper, "alright, since we have what, five hours to kill? Let's try to make a profile!"

Violet eyes blinked uncertainly, "a profile?"

His brother nodded happily, "Yea, like detectives! A criminal profile!"

"Al, he's not a criminal…"

"You don't know that for a fact, besides, it's just a saying. If we can come up with a few characteristics about this guy, it can help us narrow down our search." He tapped his pen against his chin thoughtfully, "alright, let's start with…age…Artie was pretty young when he took me in so I can't imagine the Frenchie being any older than that…but let's say he was younger by a couple years, just incase."

Matthew raised a brow at his brother's contemplative look, "so that means…?"

The American laughed unhelpfully, "that means he can be anywhere between 30 and deceased, so we know that if he's not dead, he's an adult!"

The younger boy gaped at his brother, "that's it? That didn't seem very helpful, I probably could've told you that without writing it down."

"Well it can't be helped since _you're_ the one who's been in contact with him and _you're_ the one that doesn't remember anything about this guy," he shook his head with a sigh and quickly tried to soften his words "oh well, we'll figure it out one way or another as long as we try hard enough, I'm sure of it!"

He held back his sigh and smiled, "thanks Al."

"No problem, this is why you need a hero by your side! Where would you be without me?"

A minute later, instead of profiling people, Alfred ended up doodling on the paper instead, drawing heroes flying over cities and fighting off aliens, and about an hour later, the two of them fell asleep.

* * *

_Dieppe, 1962_

The two stretched as they stepped back onto land. Alfred yawned, "That took awhile…so how long will the train ride to Paris take?"

"Probably another two hours?" He looked over at his brother, "we've never actually been to Paris before, have we?"

The elder returned his look, "hm? I don't think so. Artie's got a thing against the French, remember? 'Those bloody frogs, nothing but perverts with enticing food and nice clothes! Remember Alfred, lad, if a nude man ever approaches you, he's probably a French pervert so make sure you run and tell an officer immediately!'"

Matthew laughed at the other's impression, "or 'don't follow blokes into their cars, especially if they're tempting you with French cuisine!'"

The two shared a laugh before heading to the ticket office. Alfred turned to his brother, "I should probably leave this up to you. Honestly, who would've ever thought that _French_ of all languages would come in useful one day?"

He could only sigh at the other's attitude, "Al, you know, there are people that speak French in America and England as well…" but when he received a blank look as a response, he shook his head, "never mind, let's just go get the tickets."

Unfortunately, as he tried to make his way over, he was held back by his brother, "Wait, while you get the tickets, give me the piece of paper brows gave you, I'm curious as to what kind of friends or 'acquaintances' he has, actually, I'm going to go find a phone and give them a call just incase. I'll give them a heads up, come find me after you get the tickets, alright? Thanks!"

Nodding, he gave the other what he asked for and made his way towards the ticket vender.

* * *

_Paris, 1962_

The two sighed in relief when they finally arrived at their destination. The sun was already setting and they decided to hail a taxi to their father's acquaintance's house instead of blindly groping around one of the largest and busiest cities in the world for it. Looking at all the people that were around, Matthew couldn't help but feel disheartened, "Al, how will we ever find any clues or anything…?"

Noting the other's frown, the American sighed, feeling the need to cheer his brother up, "Really Mattie, you're such a pessimist. How do you say 'what' in French?"

He raised a brow questioningly, "Quoi, quel, or comment?"

"And name?"

"Nom?"

"Now which of those 'what's would you use with _nom_?"

"Quel est votre nom?"

Alfred grinned excitedly and nodded, "Alright, I think I've got it, watch, I'm going to narrow down our search right now." He approached a random man and began speaking terribly broken French with an over exaggerated accent and hand gestures, "Excusez-moi! Quel is tre nom…monsieur?"

The younger boy could feel his face heat up with embarrassment as the Frenchman shot his brother a confused look. But after a moment, he seemed to have figured out just what the other was asking and replied rather hesitantly. He covered his eyes and turned away, "oh my god Al…I can't believe this is happening…"

Then his brother returned, "well, he's definitely not the guy! He's Vincent something-something. Hey, this is fun! How do you say 'I am' in French?"

Matthew shook his head fervently at the other's question, "I'm not teaching you any more French! I can't believe he even answered that! I hope you're not planning on doing this to every adult male in Paris…"

"Of course not, I told you, I only have a few weeks off, there's no way I'd be able to get through everyone by then, as amazing as I am. But first thing first, we look awkward standing here, so let's come up with a new game plan at…Rod…Rod-something…let's see," he took out the piece of paper from his pocket, "Roderich…Edelstein…is that even French?"

He shrugged, "we're in Europe, everyone mixes and mingles, you know? You called beforehand, right?"

"Yea, he said Arthur already told them about us so all we have to do is get ourselves a taxi and head to…New-illy ser sane?"

"Give me that," the blond snatched the piece of paper back with a confused look on his face, "Al, this says _Neuilly sur Seine_…just go hail a taxi, I'll deal with the rest, alright? Let's try to get there before it gets too late."

The other nodded in agreement and jogged over to an unoccupied taxi and got in while he followed after. Showing the driver the address, the man raised a brow and began asking him questions conversationally. Meanwhile, Alfred sat at the back, sulking a little as he was left out. When there was finally a moment of silence, he leaned forward and asked his brother, "What did he say?"

"He asked if we lived there, I told him we had acquaintances there and he said that that was interesting. And then he asked what we were doing in France and I told him we're looking for someone and then he said good luck with that, Paris is a large city and that the people on the streets, that's probably only half the population."

"Oh…" he pursed his lips for a moment before whispering quietly to the other, "ask him for his name, or even better, ask if he's your dad!"

Matthew shook his head, "No way, I refuse."

The driver raised a brow and began speaking again, this time in accented English, "he doesn't speak French?"

Alfred shrugged, "I live in America and I was in England before that so I've never had the need to. Besides, English is a universal language!"

The older man dipped his head understandingly, "perhaps during your stay, you will discover a liking towards this country and its language? Especially our food, I am sure you will enjoy that. What kinds of food do you eat in America?"

The blond paused at this, "…there are lots of different kinds of foods but I guess I normally eat fries and burgers from McDonald's."

At this, the driver merely laughed, "well, I suppose you will find the cuisine here…different."

"Really? What kind of food you normally eat around here?" Alfred asked back and struck up a friendly conversation about food with the man until they came to a halt.

"Alors, mes amis, I believe this is where we part. Bonne chance on finding your friend!"

The two thanked and paid him as they got out. The elder smiled, "the French aren't that bad, from the way Arthur always talked about them you'd think they were a cocky group of nude monsters that ate children as a pastime or something. That old man was alright." His brother smiled and nodded in agreement. As soon as the taxi disappeared from sight, they turned around and felt their jaws drop. "…Mattie, are you sure he took us to the right place? Maybe he read the address wrong?"

They stared at the private mansion behind the gates in front of them. Matching the house's numbers to what was written on the piece of paper, Matthew turned to his brother with wide eyes, "no, he was right, this is the place."

Alfred continued gawking at the house, "I didn't know Arthur had such…elite friends."

"Well Arthur's pretty well off as well, he always said there was no point in having a larger house for three people, that's all…our house isn't that bad, and it's in London."

"But it's still pretty-really small compared to this one, how many bedrooms do you think it has? 20? 30?"

He shrugged, "probably not that many, I'd say…around 10 maybe?"

Letting out a whistle, he strode over to the bell and rang it, "who would've thought old brows had such good connections?"

Matthew pursed his lips, "your house in America's pretty big as well, Al."

"Yea but I don't live right in Paris which is probably the world's most expensive city to live in or something. In America, big houses are more affordable than in France."

A moment later, the intercom cracked and a skewed voice was heard, _"oui?"_

Alfred leaned casually on the gate, "hello? I don't speak French but this is Alfred and Matthew Kirkland, I called earlier from the train station at Dieppe?"

_"…oh! Come on in, Roderich úr they're here!"_

_"Kesesesese, who is it? Are they fans coming for my awesome autograph!?"_

**_Bang._**

_"Roderich úr, are you ready?"_

_"Almost, would you mind opening the door for our guests? I'll be down to greet them in a moment…was that Gilbert yell-"_

The intercom cut off and two exchanged glances before stepping through the opened gates and walking down the driveway. When they reached the door, it was opened and a woman was standing there, a frying pan in one hand and an unconscious man in the other. Matthew immediately dipped his head politely, "h-hello, I'm Matthew Kirkland and this is my brother Alfred, I'm sorry for imposing on you like this."

The brunette smiled, she looked friendly enough…with the exception of the man whose collar was in her hand, "oh no, it's our pleasure to have you here, I'm Elizabeta Hédervári. Welcome to France and our house, please come on in!"

A moment later, another man showed up, looking a little distressed at the sight of the unconscious person, "Gilbert! Are you alright, Gilbert!? Elizabeta? What happened to him!?"

Elizabeta shook her head, smile never faltering, "There's no need for you to worry about such trivial things, Roderich úr, besides, our guests have arrived."

The man adjusted his glasses and looked over at them, "oh, excuse me for my outburst. Honestly, that idiot keeps getting himself into these kinds of situations…I'm Roderich Edelstein, I'm the one who spoke with you earlier on the phone." The two quickly accepted the hand and shook it, both introducing themselves as they did. "Arthur has only told me part of the story before he had to leave, but before that, Elizabeta, would you mind showing them their room? I'm afraid we don't have enough bedrooms with all the guests we have at the moment, I hope you don't mind sharing a room, there are two beds in the room though."

Matthew shook his head quickly, "please don't worry about us, we're used to sharing a room!"

Roderich nodded and the woman, after dropping the other man on the floor, led them up the stairs, "it's right this way, just follow me." As they made their way up, she began asking them, "so are you two twins? You look so alike!"

"I'm the older brother, I've got a year on Mattie," Alfred stated proudly. "So how many bedrooms are in this place anyways? And how many guests are you having over if you're all filled up?"

Elizabeta looked up in thought, "let's see…we've got six? Feli and Ludwig are sharing one, Lovino and Antonio have another one, they're all out right now, you can meet them later. Gilbert's in one, Roderich úr has one and I have one and now you two have a room as well so that's six." They reached the end of a hallway, "this one will be yours. You can put your things down and get yourselves comfortable, don't take too long though, supper's almost ready, we'll wait for you downstairs."

After entering the room, Alfred set his suitcase down on what he'd always deemed as 'his side of the room', even back in London, he'd done the same thing, and glanced over, "did you notice that?"

Matthew returned the look, "The near-drooling look she had while she listed the first few names? Yea…"

He nodded, "Good, I thought it was just me. I wonder what kind of people the other guests are…maybe they're all buff studs or something, wouldn't that be interesting?"

"That's one way of putting it I guess," taking off his jacket, he slipped a more comfortable sweater on, "are you done changing?" He looked over at his brother who had bomber jacket on, "isn't it a little warm for that?"

"I'll just take it off if it gets too hot! Besides, I'm more used to the heat than you, right? I mean living _up there_, you must've had to sleep in igloos all the time!"

The younger boy protested at the other's teasing, "I didn't, Canada isn't always covered in snow you know, the only time we had snow this year was in winter! Summer was nice and warm!"

Alfred laughed, "If you say so Mattie, let's not keep them waiting, hm? That'd be rude of us, and we wouldn't want to get on the bad side of that frying pan woman."

The other blond quickly nodded and the pair made their way down the stairs, surprised that the unconscious figure was still lying where the brunette had left him. After managing to locate the kitchen, they found the man on the phone with someone, "they just arrived, the others? No they're not here at the moment…who? Oh, no, we haven't seen him for ages, he hasn't come by, yes, well he _has_ been very busy with his work and whatnot. No, no, those two still visit him quite frequently. I'm afraid I can't get a restraining order against him, perhaps you should look into that yourself? Yes," he turned around and spotted them, "they're here, hold on a moment." He motioned for them to get closer, "Arthur is on the phone."

Matthew nodded and quickly accepted the phone, "hello, Arthur?"

"_Alfred?"_

"It's Matthew."

From behind him, Alfred sighed and shook his head, "he could never tell us apart, whether it's through the phone or even when we're standing in front of him."

"_Oh! Matthew! How's France been treating you two so far?"_

"So far so good, we're going to go check out more of Paris tomorrow."

"_That's good, be sure to ask Roderich or Elizabeta if you have any questions. They know quite a bit about Paris and they have connections."_

He gave a nervous laugh, "yea, we were actually surprised when we found out you had connections like these."

"_Heh, you two should know that I have plenty of mates myself. I've known those two since I was just a lad. Tell Alfred not to make a fool of himself, and remember to run if anyone naked approaches you, alright? Though it probably wouldn't help much running to a French officer for help, for all you know, he could be the nudist…just remember to run."_

Deciding not to tell the man about his brother's earlier feats, he merely nodded, "yea, we'll remember to run." By this time, Roderich and Elizabeta had everything set up on the dining table, "oh, dinner's ready, sorry Arthur, I'll have to call you back another time. Take care."

"_You too lad, enjoy your meal, Roderich makes amazing food from the best ingredients available. Make sure you boys behave properly now."_

"Don't worry, we will, bye."

After hanging up, he turned around and joined the other three at the table. "What about that guy out in the hallway? The one with the bird in his hair," Alfred asked as he piled food up on his plate.

Elizabeta smiled and shook her head, "don't worry about Gilbert, we'll just leave leftovers for him."

Taking a bite of the food, violet eyes widened, "this is really good! I don't think I've ever eaten anything this good before!"

Roderich looked amused at their reaction, "thank you for your compliment, but this was actually something I whipped up at the last minute."

The two stared at him in disbelief, "actually?"

The brunet merely gave them a sad, sympathetic smile, "I'm sorry for the…_hardships_ you've had to go through…"

Alfred sighed as he continued eating, "What do you know? Artie's creations are known throughout the continent. Oh well, at least we get to eat good food now, hm?"

Matthew nodded in agreement, and then turned to the two, "Arthur mentioned that he's known you since he was younger…"

The man nodded, "that's correct. When news of the war came around, we were all around the same age and our guardians decided to set up a school-like system for us to continue our education by starting a small private school. There were quite a few of us all from different countries that attended this school and most of us continued to stay in touch with one another."

Elizabeta sighed, "it went on until the war became too much and it was too dangerous for us to actually attend class. After that, most of us went back to our homes and got tutored from there. I went back to Hungary and Roderich úr went back to Austria for awhile."

Alfred raised a brow, "how'd you guys end up in France then?"

"This is actually the property of Feli's grandfather. After the war ended, this building had been surprisingly untouched so he moved Feli here to avoid all the hassle that the losing countries were going through while he himself went back to Italy to help sort things out. He paid Roderich úr to help take care of him who then recommended me to come along, at the time our families were having financial problems-though we would've agreed either way, so we're here. Lovino also lives here for periods of time, but most of the time, he lives in Spain since he was raised under Antonio's care ever since he was little…those two are so cute together…"

Matthew was about to ask about the other two names he'd heard when a voice came from the door, "I don't know how the awesome me ended up sleeping by the door but I'm up now! And I'm hungry," the man sniffed the air and quickly took a seat next to the older blond. And without asking, took the boy's currently unused fork, "something smells as awesome as me, hey Rodney, what's for dinner?" Then without waiting for an answer, he reached out and took a bite, "not bad, not bad!"

The brothers watched in silent horror as the woman's smile slowly morphed into a darker, more homicidal looking one. "_Gilbert Beilschmidt_…"

The man stopped mid-chew and looked up nervously, "E-Ersavet…uait I-I…"

"Don't talk with your mouth full!" Within moments, the light haired man was crying for mercy as the brunette ruthlessly attacked him.

The pair of blondes watched in silent terror as the man was brutally maimed. Quickly finishing up the food on their plates, they excused themselves and retreated to their room in fear.

* * *

Nya~

Doesn't asking strangers for their names sound like something Alfred would do, even if it was just for fun? And can you guess who influenced Arthur's image of the French? And Gilbert's awesome, I think I'll have to write more about him later. I really want to hear Canada's Marukaite Chikyuu, though you probably won't be able to hear it, but still! Even Sealand's getting his version out before Matthew! Other than that, I'm super proud of myself for keeping up with weekly updates for this fic but who knows how long this will last for?

For those of you who are peeved about the use of Japanese suffixes, I changed it! It never really bothered me since it was just a way of demonstrating respect and/or affection, but either way. Roderich úr is Hungarian for Mr. Roderich basically, and I guess Feliciano will be saying Signor Roderich. I think Mr. Roderich sounds awkward in English :P

Reviews are much appreciated and enjoy!

**Fun fact**: According to a survey done at the beginning of 2010 by The Economist Intellegence Unit (I googled it), Paris has the highest cost of living in the world, and apparently Vancouver's the best place to live in (yay!) with Vienna in second place by only 0.1.


	4. Chapter 3

Papa Chéri

Chapter 3:

_Paris, 1962_

"Ve, and that's the Eiffel Tower!" The Italian pointed to the tower in the distance, "Can you see it? Can you see it? It's really big, isn't it?"

Ludwig sighed and shook his head, "Feliciano, I think they can recognize the tower on their own."

From beside him, Alfred let out an amused laugh as he took a bite of the burger he'd purchased from a nearby McDonald's just moments ago. When they awoke, they were greeted by the Italian and the German.

"_Hello, I'm Feliciano and this is Ludwig! Signor Roderich asked us to show you around Paris! So we're your personal guides for the day!"_

"_That's right, if you two are ready, we'll depart immediately."_

After dinner last night, after hesitantly returning back down the stairs for dessert, they'd explained their situation to the two who nodded understandingly but insisted that they needed to spend at least the first few days exploring the city and all its tourist attractions. To this Alfred had agreed wholeheartedly, _"We're in Paris anyways, it'd be a shame not to check the tower and all that other stuff out!"_

"Ludwig, where are we going again?"

The German sighed, "Stop getting distracted Feliciano, we're going to L'arc de triomphe right now, then we will proceed to Les Champs Elysées, is that clear?"

Feliciano gave a bubbly smile, "Got it! Can we take them to meet Kiku after? Oh, but can we stop for pasta before that?" Quickly switching to Italian, he looked at the blond pleadingly, "Voglio la pasta, possiamo andare a mangiare? Per favore, Ludwig?"

The taller man nodded in approval, "I don't see why not."

Matthew laughed quietly to himself at this, reminded of his brother's _'I'm hungry, can we stop at McDonald's? I'm starving! Please!'_

As they walked, the Italian pointed to various buildings, "a lot of these used to belong to Nonno Roma but they don't anymore."

Alfred let out an impressed whistle, "your grandpa must've been a millionaire."

The brunet nodded, "he might've been, I don't know, I think he spent the last bit of his money on this house and the one in Italy. But he hasn't been around for years and years now so I can't ask. Ve, Nonno Roma and Ludwig's nonno were best friends, weren't they?"

Ludwig shrugged, "I don't know, Bruder would know better."

Matthew blinked, "Brother?"

"Gilbert? He went out with Antonio and Lovino today. I believe you may have met him yesterday though I'm not certain since I found him passed out on the kitchen floor when I returned."

Alfred nodded, "oh yea, the guy with the bird that kept getting beaten up by the woman."

The German nodded, a little embarrassed, "no doubt that was him."

The younger blond sighed sympathetically, he was pretty sure he knew how the taller man felt. It was probably the same as when Alfred ran around asking random people for their names and the endless embarrassment he felt. Changing the subject, he asked, "So how much further is it? We can always stop for food before if we get hungry, right?"

"Yay, pasta!"

Ludwig shook his head halfheartedly, "even though he's lived in France for most of his life, his inner Italian is still running rampage somehow."

The Italian smiled and turned around, "you too Ludwig! You came here around the same time as me, and you're still all 'potatoes, potatoes, beer, beer, Wurst, Wurst' and stuff, no?"

The taller man's face reddened slightly, "I suppose, but that's also because of Bruder. He's always talking about how we'll go back after the wall's torn down and visit Mutti and Onkel's graves. Besides, Wurst and beer's delicious."

"Oh yea, you and Gilbert came here together, the bed used to be really snug with the three of us," then he suddenly pointed to a shop down the street, "That restaurant's got really good pasta, can we go? Can we? Can we call mio fratello? "

The German shrugged, "If you can find somehow get a hold of him, go ahead. I doubt he'll come though, he doesn't exactly like me, remember?"

Feliciano laughed, "He doesn't not like you, he's just a little scared because you're so tall and muscular, that's all! Oh well, I'll get him to come next time, he's probably having fun with Gilbert and Antonio anyways! So can we go to that restaurant?"

The brother exchanged glances before smiling, "why not? It seems like a good time for lunch anyways."

* * *

And so, they spent the next few days visiting the Louvre and the Notre-Dame and everything else. It was only after they finished sightseeing that Roderich handed them a name and address, "you said you had a letter from this man, correct?"

The two nodded.

"This person has a gift at analyzing scripts, she'll be able to help you narrow down your search hopefully."

Matthew accepted the piece of paper, "thank you Mr. Edelstein. Is she another acquaintance from the school you used to go to?"

The brunet nodded, "Just Roderich is fine. She and her brother both went to our school though they both grew up in different countries. She grew up in Belgium while her brother grew up in the Netherlands, they're both currently in Paris for business so you got lucky. And they called earlier and gave me their current address. I told them about you two and they said that they'd see you tomorrow if you were available. Be warned though, they don't get along very well though, even Elizabeta and Gilbert get along better than them…sort of."

Alfred shot the man a skeptical look, "so does that mean they're always at war with one another?"

Roderich adjusted his glasses, "Gilbert and Elizabeta actually get along quite well despite what most people think…sometimes. They've known each other for most of their lives now and grew up together. Gilbert, despite how he behaves, he's actually been through quite a lot because of the war." Just then, the woman stepped through the door, "ah Elizabeta, we were just talking about you and Gilbert."

"What about us? We've been fighting since we met and he used to think I was a boy, but I started that so it was my fault," she let out a laugh, "it's kind of like how Roderich úr and Ludwig used to think Feli was a girl for the longest time. It was so cute, I remember Roderich úr buying dresses for him, and Ludwig had the biggest crush on Feli too."

The brunet's face reddened, "I don't believe that's relevant to the topic at hand, Elizabeta. Excuse me, I think I'll go play the piano for a bit."

After he left, the woman chuckled to herself, "he's always like that, every time he gets embarrassed or angry, he'll go express himself on the piano. It's quite adorable, isn't it? So what were you three talking about?"

Alfred looked around sheepishly, "Uhh…about you and Gilbert?"

"Ah Gilbert…he's really an idiot, isn't he? We used to pick on the other kids a lot, then after awhile, I don't remember exactly why but Arthur and I sided with Roderich úr to go against Gil. Even though Gil's a loser, he's got a few friends. He's probably out with those two and Lovino right now, causing trouble no doubt. Those three are the dumbest boys I've ever met. It was really fun at school beating them up, but now…let's see, Gilbert's still useless, Antonio's here, but he decided to use what little money his parents had left to start a tomato farm, plantation or whatever you'd like to call it in Spain and that's been working out well for him, and as for Francis, I didn't keep track of him as well as I did for those two, but last I heard, he was a renowned chef for awhile and opened even a restaurant, but then decided to go into designing and now has his own line of clothes so he's doing very well right now. There's no doubt about it, Gilbert's the most useless man in the country."

The brothers exchanged curious glances, "but Roderich said that Gilbert had quite a few hardships because of the war…"

Elizabeta nodded, the amused gleam fading from her eyes, "that's right, Ludwig was born in the middle of the war and his mother died a few months after giving birth. We always kept in touch since our families are quite close, his grandfather was involved with the war along with Feli's grandfather. At that time, Lovino was with Antonio in Spain…anyways, Gilbert and Ludwig stayed with their uncle Fritz back then in Berlin since he took in their mother, but then one of the bombings ended up hitting their house and killing their uncle. And I remember the last phone call we had before I lost touch with him until after the war…"

* * *

_Budapest, 1943_

_She was frantic, wanting to talk sense into the loud, obtrusive boy she'd known all her life, "Can't you come to Hungary? It'll be safer here and we can set up a room for you and everything!"_

"_Nope, I can't do that! West can't travel yet, you know! He just got better awhile ago too!"_

_He was confusing her, "West? Last time you called, you said his name was Ludwig."_

"_Yea but he was born in the west wing and I was born in the east wing though that part of the house is kind of destroyed right now and that's also where Alte Fritz was…anyways, so I'm East and he's West!"_

"_Gilbert, it's not safe over there! Anyu said Berlin's going to get bombed a lot, she said you could come over! Please, anyu said you could…"_

"_Stop it! I'm getting goosebumps from your worrying! You should know by now that I'm too awesome to leave my awesome baby brother behind! He's the kid brother Mutti gave me! I mean, I have to make sure he grows up as awesome as me, you know?"_

_There was nothing she wanted to do more than run over to Germany, beat the boy up and drag his corpse back to Hungary. She was on the brink of tears, "but Gil, all the adults are gone, how are you supposed to take care of Ludwig?"_

"_Kesesese, how many times do I have to tell you, El'za? I'm awesome, so of course I'll figure out a way to take care of West! …o-oi, are you crying!?"_

"_No!"_

_She was._

"_Stop it! That's not the boy I know! The Elizabeta I know would be yelling death threats at me right now!" He only used her full name when he was being serious or in trouble, "we'll be alright!"_

"_I'm not worried about West or Ludwig or whatever his name is!" As terrible as it sounded, even to her own ears, she cared more about her friend than a stupid baby she'd never seen before, "I'm worried about __**you**__!"_

"_Huh? What are talking about, El'za? I'll be fine! You probably can't imagine all the fun I'll have by myself since you're not quite awesome enough, besides, I've got West with me."_

_She should've known. That stupid little boy who had too much fun on his own, she gave an annoyed sniffle, "You're an idiot, Gilbert…"_

"_Hey, cheer up! Here, let me tell you about West, alright? He looks a lot like Mutti and Opa! He's got blond hair and really blue eyes! And you know he's an awesome baby since he doesn't cry that much and he really likes it when I read to him…except the library was in the east wing so it's gone now-so I've been reading manuals to him instead! See how awesome I am? You can look forward to meeting him and seeing just how awesome he is after Opa and Vati get back, alright?"_

_At that point, it was obvious that there was no way of convincing the other, so she nodded, "fine…as long as I get to see the both of you."_

"_Kesesesese, of course, we come in an awesome pair now! See you later, El'za!"_

_Her hands were shaking when she hung up. She was terrified of the thought that that'd be the last time she'd hear his voice…_

* * *

She sighed at the dark memory, "what terrible times those were…I don't know how he managed to take care of Ludwig by himself, but he did, and the both of them made it here."

Alfred raised a brow, "Berlin? Isn't that the German city that was split between the USSR and the rest of the world?"

"That's why they're here. After Germany lost the war, with the help of their grandfather, and maybe Feli's grandfather, they somehow escaped and made their way to France to find us. He just randomly showed up at our doors one day with that stupid grin on his face and Ludwig on his back." She sighed, "I've tried asking him about how he managed to last two years in the war without any of the adults around."

"Didn't they have any other family members to help them out?"

"They did, but none that were willing to take them in. Fritz was already the only person who was willing to lend a helping hand to their mother after she became pregnant. During the war, they were left to fend for themselves, and Gil told me that their house got bombed so I don't know if they continued staying there or what. When their grandfather returned, he managed to find them and took care of them and everything but it must've been terrifying for him. A stupid, rich little boy who has too much fun on his own in the middle of a war…every time I ask him about it he just laughs and says 'of course I managed, I'm awesome like that' and then I can't help but hit him."

The two exchanged nervous looks, "at least they're both here and they're alright."

The Hungarian smiled and nodded, "yea, you're right. He was so scrawny when he finally got here…it's a little strange thinking of Gil being as awesome as he says, it's too unrealistic. Oh, speaking of unrealistic, did you know that Arthur used to be quite the delinquent? He was one of the youngest kids there but he managed to beat up the older kids…at times."

Alfred shook his head incredulously, "old brows? I can't see it, there's no way he could do anything like that. He's always telling us to be polite and diplomatic"

She laughed, "You'd be surprised, I'll have to find the photos to show you someday."

"There are photos?"

"Of course, we had something like a yearbook, he had a black eye in a few of his pictures. He used to be one of the most violent children that ever roamed among us. You should've seen him beat Antonio up at the pool once, he even tied the poor boy to a pole until Gilbert and Francis managed to rescue him…"

* * *

That night, the brothers decided to crawl into the same bed to stay up to talk as they used to do when they were children, "I guess those guys had it pretty bad as well, I would've never guessed that they've been through so much…"

Matthew nodded, "we were lucky, weren't we? We more or less avoided the war."

"Yea, too bad mum left us at the orphanage though."

The younger brother looked over, "do you remember her, Al?"

Azure eyes tilted his head up toward the ceiling, "sort of…she used to sing to us a lot but then she stopped one day and I remember a little about how she looks like but it's probably not right. The matron used to tell me she looked like us only she was covered in dirt when she brought us there…do you think she's alive?"

"I hope so…"

"Do you miss her?"

Matthew shook his head, "I don't remember her at all so I can't really miss her, do you?"

The elder shrugged, "sometimes, when I hear her singing in my head, but it's always replaced with Arthur's storytelling. We were lucky, weren't we? Being taken in by someone like Arthur instead of being raised in an orphanage or being stuck in a city while it got bombed-though I would've taken care you like a hero would for sure! But still, we were lucky…"

He nodded, "yea, we really were, and we even ended up together too."

"Remember when we were little and Arthur used to read to us every night?"

Matthew smiled, "I remember that, but speaking of Arthur, I can't believe he used to be a delinquent."

A laugh, "Me neither…hey Mattie, I can't sleep, tell me a scary story."

The blond raised a brow, "why a scary one? Won't that just keep you up all night?"

Alfred shrugged, "who cares? I feel like a scary story, like the ones Arthur used to tell us."

"And you always ended up sleeping in my bed after…"

"Well we've got _that _step out of the way already so you can't really say anything."

A sigh, "fine, what about _'Ivan the Terrible_'? …once upon a time, in Russia, there was a tall, large man with two sisters…"

* * *

The next morning, they were awaken by Feliciano, "hey, you guys sleep together too! Ludwig made pancakes for all of us!"

Matthew immediately became more alert and sat up, "pancakes? Really?"

Meanwhile, Alfred opened his eyes groggily and let out a yawn, "is it morning already…?"

The Italian nodded and skipped out the door, "we'll see you downstairs, ve!"

* * *

After getting changed and ready, the two made their way down, one with a bottle of maple syrup in his hands and the other with nothing. "Bruder, please wait until everyone gets here."

"Come on West, you know you shouldn't starve my awesome stomach!"

When the German turned around and saw the two, he nodded, "fine, you can eat. Good morning Alfred, Matthew."

"Good morning," Matthew spoke cheerfully as he sat down in front of a stack of pancakes and began drizzling his maple syrup on it, "it looks really good, Ludwig."

"Kesesesese, West is really handy around the kitchen, I guess he learnt it from Rodney after being around him for so long." Red eyes blinked as he watched the Canadian pour the brown syrup over his breakfast, "What are you putting on your pancakes?"

Violet eyes blinked, "maple syrup? It makes everything taste better, would you like to try some?"

The man nodded, "oh, I think I've heard of this stuff somewhere before but I've never actually tried it. Pass it over, it looks interesting, I need to use my awesome judgment to rate it"

Alfred suppressed another yawn, "hey Gilbo, pass it over here after you're done."

The German raised a brow, "Gilbo? That's not my awesome name!"

"Ve, I want to try some as well!"

A moment later, Gilbert gave a start, "whoa! This tastes almost as awesome as me! Hey West, we have to get some! Where's this stuff from anyways?"

Matthew gave a small laugh, "well I brought mine over from Canada…"

The American snickered as he reached for the bottle, "Oh no Mattie, you're going to get everyone addicted to this stuff."

"West, we have to order a crate of this stuff from _Kanada_! And make more pancakes! I think I could eat this stuff forever!"

Ludwig raised a brow at the man's excitement over a bottle of syrup, "Bruder, maybe you should finish the ones on your plate first."

"Don't worry about it, I won't waste any of your awesome pancakes! Matt…Matthew, right? You're definitely going to get an _Awesome Me Honor Award_ for this! Hey Feliciano, try some! It's really good!"

Alfred gave his brother a light nudge, "He sounds just like you now, a maple addict."

The younger blond rubbed the back of his neck and laughed softly, "at least I'm helping fuel Canada's economy…"

* * *

When they finally finished the second and third batches of pancakes Ludwig had made at the request of his brother, Alfred gave a groan as he walked out the door, "so many pancakes…so full…that was like…five times what you normally make…no offence Mattie, next time I come over, please don't make me any pancakes."

"I think I'll be cutting back a bit as well…I didn't know it was possible but I think we just overdosed on pancakes," the other blond exhaled, hunched over a little. "Ludwig's pancakes were really good though…"

"This is all your fault, you and your maple syrup…"

"Let's just walk it off."

Alfred looked over at his brother who was staggering down the driveway, "hey, wait up Mattie, I feel like an overweight wiener dog…"

Matthew laughed, "Do you have the address?"

"Yea, it's in my pocket," he pulled it out and showed the other, "do you have your letter?"

"Yea, it's in my bag. Ugh, hopefully by the time we get there, we'll feel better…"

The elder shook his head, "no way, that's impossible. I think I'm about to throw up pancakes by the dozen, quick, I need a coke, fries with ketchup and a burger…let's go to McDonald's."

His brother paled at the mention of more food, "you're impossible, Al…"

* * *

Nya~

Happy Easter break! Is this considered a slow chapter? Well if it is, the next chapter will be a super awesome surprise (I guess), so anticipate it! And depending on how impatient I get, I might get it done earlier than usual, I guess we'll see. It's hard not to get into the stories of the other characters when writing a fic like this, so bear with me, hopefully you'll find it interesting. And you're also going to have to forgive my injections of different languages, for this chapter, it's because Ludwig's a sucker for Italian (he calls it a beautiful language and whatnot). And yea, si me escribes un review, te amaré mucho! Enjoy!

**_Voglio la pasta, possiamo andare a mangiare?_** - I want pasta, can we go eat? (Ita)

**_Anyu_** - Mom (Hun)

**_Roderich úr_** - Mr. Roderich (Hun)


	5. Chapter 05a

Papa Chéri

Chapter 0.5a:

_Hamburg, 1941_

It was a few months after his father's visit that Mutti decided to move to another house. As of lately, she'd be getting fat, her arms always around her stomach and she looked pale in the morning. She was sitting in her chair when he entered the room, half talking to him and half to herself, "Your Vati said that there'll be more bombings coming our way…but we can't travel too far, perhaps Friedrich…yes Friedrich." She looked over at him and motioned for him to draw closer, "Come here Gilbert."

He blinked and did as he was told, "What's wrong, Mutti?"

Stroking his hair, she told him quietly, "I believe you're going to be a big brother."

Red eyes blinked again, "…a big brother? Awesome! When? Is he in your belly right now? It'll be a boy, right?"

She gave him a faint smile, "perhaps, I guess we'll find out."

Gilbert returned the smile tenfold. He'd always been told many times that he possessed an ability that few did from his mother's side, and that was simply to smile. Though thinking back, he'd never seen his Opa smile before, and that old Italian guy that invited himself over always poked fun at him for it. Sure, his lips could twitch upwards but it was never a smile. He could remember when he ran up to the man yelling _"Opa! Play with me! Play with me!"_

_And the man stared wordlessly at him for a moment before picking him up and tossing him into the air a few times with the same indifferent look on his face. Once that was over, he put the boy back down, "so small…what do you normally play anyways?"_

_"Lately, El'za and me have been playing War! First, I used to go beat kids up for their toys but then I'd get beaten up by El'za afterwards and that wasn't fair, so now we're enemies and take each other on one-on-one instead, and I always win since he's such a girl!"_

_The blond man nodded, "I'll teach you about war tactics, come over here."_

_Throwing his arms into the air in excitement, he immediately ran over to the man, _"_Yea! That sounds awesome!"_

_His Mutti stood there watching them, a hint of a smile on her lips, "Vater, it's nice to see that you and Gilbert share a common interest…"_

_His Opa's face reddened slightly but he shrugged it off and began going over tactics that'd been employed through the years._

It was the same for Mutti, her smiles were always faint, barely noticeable, but at least they were there. But he didn't care, she had ample qualities to make up for it, her manners, her grace, her kindness, she was a _real_ lady, not like Elizabeta who used to break and enter into his room and just to scare the life out of him whenever he stole Rodney's things, like that toy of his that he called 'Silesia'. Besides, even if Mutti or Opa couldn't smile, _he_ could, and he'd smile enough for the three of them, because he was awesome like that.

His Mutti gave him a nod and got up, "Excuse me, I have to go give your Onkel in Berlin a call."

He nodded happily, "after you're done, I'm going to call El'za and Rodney and 'tonio and Fran' and all those guys to rub it in their faces because they don't have brothers and even if they did, theirs wouldn't be as awesome as mine!"

"Now wait a minute Gilbert, we don't know if it's a boy yet…" but he'd already ran off. She sighed and shook her head, lips curving upwards, "that boy…where does all that energy come from?"

* * *

_Berlin, 1942_

He was wandering around aimlessly around the mansion. Mutti wasn't up yet, she hadn't been feeling very well ever since she gave birth, besides, she must've been exhausted from taking care of Ludwig. Thinking about his little brother and all the amazing things he would teach him in the future always brought a grin to his face. Gilbert strutted his way down the hall towards the west wing where the nursery was.

He liked Alte Fritz's house, lying on the outskirts of Berlin, they received as much privacy as anyone could ever hope for. Not to mention it was full of their family's history, more specifically, _his_ history, since he was born in the east wing way before. At that time, Vati and Mutti were simply visiting Alte Fritz's place when it happened. His father had always told him the story about how he'd apologized profusely for the mess they made and how they'd insisted on paying for the cleaning bills but his uncle merely shook his head and told him how glad he was that Mutti was alright.

Speaking of uncle, he grinned happily as he spotted the man down the hall, "Alte Fritz!"

The man turned around and returned the smile, "Guten Morgen Gilbert, have you eaten breakfast already?"

He nodded, "of course, I have to grow up taller and awesome-r so I have to eat lots! Vati said so!"

His uncle laughed, "Well I'd say he gave you pretty sound advice. Have you seen your Mutti around?"

"I think she's still sleeping, but I should probably go wake her up, West might be hungry and he has to grow up big and strong so I can teach him how to beat Rodney up! Hey, Alte Fritz?"

The man looked down kindly, "yes, Gilbert?"

"I heard a couple soldiers talking while I was out running errands for Mutti, they said that the English were the ones bombing us and they kept talking bad about them. Doesn't that mean they're our enemies? But I know an English kid, so does that mean I'm not supposed to be friends with him anymore? Well he's not really a friend, I mean, he's got really thick brows and all he ever really wants to do is beat Fran' up then he leaves right after, actually, all we've done was fought together and against each other a couple times, but still."

Fritz blinked a few times before ruffling the boy's hair, "It's probably better to stay out of the way of soldiers… it's true that the English are bombing us, but you have to realize that we bombed London a few times as well. All the countries involved with this war have to pick one side or another and fight, that's what war's like. Now Gilbert, I'd like to believe that you can continue to stay friends with all those children you know, after all, none of you are active participants of the war. You have friends from all over Europe, don't you?"

He nodded happily and began listing off his schoolmates, "Yea! El'za's from Hungary, Rodney's from Austria, Franny's from France, 'tonio's from Spain and there are others too, like that Vash kid from Switzerland but I mostly stay away from him since he seems angry all the time."

His uncle smiled, "exactly, after this war's over, there'll be peace again and you'll be able to see them again. Do you think you'll treat them any differently because of what's happened? Would they treat _you_ any different?"

"Probably not, I mean I didn't do anything or hurt anyone so why would they? …oh, I think I get it. Thanks Alte Fritz! You're awesome!"

"You're very awesome as well," the other replied with a laugh, "now let's wake your Mutti up for breakfast."

Gilbert grinned and skipped ahead towards the nursery and swung the door open, "Mutti! It's time for breakfast!" He blinked when there was no reply and Ludwig cried from inside his crib which was rare for the child. Walking over and picking his brother up, he approached his mother who was lying in bed, her face pale, "Mutti?"

He took her ice cold hand and shook it gently, "Mutti? It's time to get up."

She remained motionless.

"Mutti?" He looked over at his uncle, "Alte Fritz, something's wrong with Mutti! She won't wake up!"

The man immediately ran over and leaned down, close to the woman before he too paled, "Gilbert…how about you take Ludwig to the kitchen and get him something to eat?"

"But what about Mutti? Isn't she going to wake up?"

His uncle hesitated before shaking his head, "…I'm afraid not Gilbert…"

A few days later, they buried her in the backyard, there was no beautiful service or flowers like she deserved, just a casket and dirt.

* * *

_Berlin, 1943_

The proudest day of his life was probably when he was sitting in the nursery with Ludwig, watching him walk around and put his toys away with amazing dedication. After he finally finished, he returned back to his brother's side, "Kesesesese, you're quite a meticulous kid, aren't you? You can help your Bruder clean his room in the future, alright?"

Blue eyes stared at him for the longest time, probably deep in thought as he always was, "…bru…der?" His own eyes widened as the silent child furled his brows, dissatisfied with the inaccuracy of his speech and tried again, "Bruud-er…Bruder…?" Finally happy with his pronunciation, he nodded to himself in approval, "Bruder."

The poor child let out a yelp as he was tackled by the older boy, "Mein Gott West, you're a genius! That's my awesome Brüderlein!"

He picked the child in his arms, swung him around a few times and he ran down the hall to where his uncle was. "Alte Fritz! Alte Fritz! Guess what!?"

Their uncle turned around, "What is it Gilbert? Is something wrong with Ludwig?"

"He's amazingly awesome, that's all! He just said his first word! And it was me! I was his first word! He said Bruder!" He couldn't contain his laughter as he let the words tumble out of his mouth, "Hey West, can you say 'Bruder' again?"

The blond looked slightly confused but he did as he was asked, "Bruder?"

"See! Isn't he awesome!?"

He looked at his brother and laughed, a moment later, the child began laughing along with him. Fritz smiled, "looks like you two were made for each other, and apparently Ludwig didn't completely take after your Opa and Mutti, just look at him laugh."

Gilbert nodded happily, "that's because he's awesome like me! I'm going to go out back to show Mutti!"

* * *

A few months after that, he and Ludwig were out grocery shopping, bringing along their rationing cards and extra money incase the shopkeeper was feeling greedy and was willing to spare a few extra grams of butter or something.

After finishing their errand, with his brother in tow, the two of them made their way down the street towards their house when the sirens began wailing. Following everyone else, Gilbert picked his brother up and ran towards the closest set of stairs down to safety where he huddled with a crowd of stranger as the ground above them rattled and shook. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before people began reemerging back onto the streets. Looking down at his brother who looked quite startled, he laughed loudly, "come on West, there's nothing to be afraid of, it's over now! Let's hurry up and cook some Würste, it's your favorite, right?"

The boy nodded, fear slowly leaving him.

"Kesesesese, that's my awesome little brother for you! You know quality sausage when you eat it, it's way better than that kolbász stuff El'za gave me try in school. I told you about Elizabeta, right? That violent girl from Hungary, we used to think she was a boy…" and he continued filling his brother's head with stories of his schooling days until they got home.

They stopped dead in their tracks as they stared at the house, the east wing, along with everything that'd once stood next to the house had turned into a pile of rubble, still emitting smoke from the embers of freshly burnt wood. Ludwig clung tightly to his brother as the elder led them towards the house. Once inside, he began looking around, "Alte Fritz? Where are you? Hey, Alte Fritz!"

* * *

After going through every room that was still intact, he quickly wiped away the tears that were threatening to spill and gave his brother a shaky smile, "he's probably out, you know? Don't worry about a thing, West, Alte Fritz is probably just fine, I mean he told me he'd be busy today so he's probably out being awesome." He was lying but there wasn't any other choice. He hoped that within a few days, the boy would forget about their uncle, "anyways, didn't I say we'd make some Würste? Let's go make some and we'll see if he comes back today, I think he said something about going out of town for awhile."

Ludwig merely nodded and followed his brother into this kitchen.

* * *

Unfortunately, because of the breeze that came from the missing half of the house, it didn't take very long for Ludwig to get sick. Gilbert looked anxiously at his little brother as the blond let out a cough, "i-it's okay, West! I'll get you to an awesome doctor, alright? Alte Fritz showed me where a couple of them were before, I'm sure I'll remember once I get there! Don't worry about it, we can get food earlier so I won't have to go tomorrow, you know? It's perfect!"

Carrying his brother on his back, he ran outside.

* * *

The first office he found, the doctor no longer resided there. The office's lights had all been turned off, its glass shattered and on the door, a big yellow star had been painted on it. Having lived on the outskirts of the city without radio or television since Alte Fritz had always relied on reading newspapers to catch up on current events, he didn't exactly understand what it meant other than the fact that it was closed and out of business, but took off for the next one.

The next office proved to be more fruitful. Though the lights weren't on, the door was unlocked. Running inside, he looked around, "is there a doctor here?"

A minute later, an old man emerged from the back room, "I'm sorry, I'm not taking attending to any patients right now."

"Hey, I remember you! You're Alte Fritz's friend from before! You _have_ to help, my brother's sick, can't you give him anything?"

The doctor shook his head, "like I said, no patients right now, I'm supposed to be on the field treating soldiers, if anyone catches either of us here, we'll both be in trouble, I could be killed…I'm sure he'll be fine, it's probably just a cold. Look, I'm sorry, but could you please leave before other people find me here?"

Dread and desperation began gnawing at his stomach, "I can't do that! West is the final gift Mutti gave me, I have to take care of him! What do you want? Money? Food cards? I can pay it!"

At the mention of payment, the man looked contemplative for a moment before sighing, "very well, bring him here and we'll take a quick look."

Though it turned out just to be a mild fever, Gilbert ended up giving away most of the food he'd planned on getting later, but he didn't care, "so I just have to make sure he takes the medicine and eats and sleeps lots, right?"

The doctor nodded, "he should get better in about a week…" and perhaps he felt guilty for taking the boys' food because he handed them an extra bottle and a blanket, "just incase, I won't be attending patients anymore anyways. Make sure you keep him warm."

Gilbert grinned, "Thanks doc, I'll make sure he gets better," hoisting the blond onto his back, he marched back out, "come on, let's go home West, I'll go make you whatever you want and you'll get better in no time!"

* * *

A few months later, he received a call from Elizabeta. Before her, he'd only ever received a call from Antonio who'd called to rant about how adorable his little charge was.

"_Lovino! His name's Lovino! He's so, so, so, so, so cute! Oh my god, I can't even express it! But cute! He's so cute! You should see him-pffft soooo cute! Hey Lovino, come over to Jefe Antonio for a second."_

"_What do you want, you jer-chigi!"_

"_So cute! He speaks really well for his age, right? Right? Tell me you agree with me, Gilbert! He's so cute! Lovino, I could hug you all day! I heard he has un hermanito! Imagine if the two of them were here with me, it'd be a paradise, a paradise I tell you! Ah-he's eating a tomato! Just like his jefe! How cute! Lovino, marry me!"_

He'd hung up mid-rant in favor of checking on Ludwig who was still sick at the time. But Elizabeta's call was different, more urgent. She'd called while Ludwig was in the nursery keeping himself entertained, waiting for Gilbert to whip some form of dinner up.

"_Can't you come to Hungary? It'll be safer here and we can set up a room for you and everything!"_

Shaking his head, he continued waiting impatiently for the water in the pot to boil, "Nope, I can't do that! West can't travel yet, you know! He just got better awhile ago too!"

"_West? Last time you called, you said his name was Ludwig."_

"Yea but he was born in the west wing and I was born in the east wing though that part of the house is kind of destroyed right now and that's also where Alte Fritz was…anyways, so I'm East and he's West!"

"_Gilbert, it's not safe over there! Anyu said Berlin's going to get bombed a lot, she said you could come over! Please, anyu said you could…"_

Gilbert rubbed his arm, "Stop it! I'm getting goosebumps from your worrying! You should know by now that I'm too awesome to leave my awesome baby brother behind! He's the kid brother Mutti gave me! I mean, I have to make sure he grows up as awesome as me, you know?"

"_But Gil, all the adults are gone, how are you supposed to take care of Ludwig?"_

"Kesesese, how many times do I have to tell you, El'za? I'm awesome, so of course I'll figure out a way to take care of West!" He heard a sniffle over the line and panicked, hoping that it was the phone being faulty, "…o-oi, are you crying!?"

"_No!"_

He was looking around desperately for something to say that'd distract her, "Stop it! That's not the boy I know! The Elizabeta I know would be yelling death threats at me right now! We'll be alright!"

"_I'm not worried about West or Ludwig or whatever his name is! I'm worried about __**you**__!"_

This caused him to blink, "Huh? What are talking about, El'za? I'll be fine! You probably can't imagine all the fun I'll have by myself since you're not quite awesome enough, besides, I've got West with me."

"_You're an idiot, Gilbert…"_

He snickered at how annoyed she sounded, back to good old El'za. "Hey, cheer up! Here, let me tell you about West, alright? He looks a lot like Mutti and Opa! He's got blond hair and really blue eyes and he can smile! And you know he's an awesome kid since he already knows a lot of words and doesn't cry that much and he really likes it when I read to him…except the library was in the east wing so it's gone now-so I've been reading manuals to him instead! See how awesome I am? You can look forward to meeting him and seeing just how awesome he is after Opa and Vati get back, alright?"

"_Fine…as long as I get to see the both of you."_

"Kesesesese, of course, we come in an awesome pair now! See you later, El'za!" And he hung up. That was the last call he received because the next day, their phone lines were cut.

* * *

Nya~

Guess my patience didn't last very long. Not much to translate here, especially if you've listened to Maru Kaite Chikyuu. Uhh...yea, this is completely un-Matthew related but oh well. Toast with maple syrup's really good, you can also replace sugar with maple syrup while baking and you can use it as a fruit dip as well, the possibilities are endless! But you have to make sure you're using 100% real maple syrup, none fo that Aunt Jemima stuff... And other than that, feel free to ask if you have questions, reviews are appreciated, and enjoy!

*Tell me if you want me to post part 2 of this up next or simply the next chapter!*

**_Jefe_** - Boss (Spa)  
**_Alte Fritz_** - Old Fritz (Ger)


	6. Chapter 4

Papa Chéri

Chapter 4:

_Paris, 1962_

"Come on Mattie, you're so slow!"

"I can't help it!" He whined softly as he was dragged through the crowded streets, "We're not in _that_ much of a hurry, are we?"

Alfred glanced back, "what are you talking about? Of course we are! Didn't you hear what Antonio said back there?"

* * *

"_Oh? What are you two doing out here? I was actually in the yard just now checking on these little tomatoes we started growing! Are you about to go on another one of your adventures? That sounds like fun! You two are looking a little fatter than you did yesterday, did overeat or something? Maybe you should consider dieting!"_

"_Why are we still outside, damn it!?"_

"_Lovino, looks like these two are off to see new people again."_

"_So? You're going off to see that perverted bastard, aren't you?"_

"_Francis? Sí, ¡voy a visitarlo! ¿Quieres venirte conmigo?"_

"_No, who would want to go with you, bastard? …chigi!"_

_Letting go of the curl, the Spaniard laughed, _"_Fusosososo, don't be like that, I'm going with Gilbert tonight, it'll be fun! Francis said he'd cook for us, he makes the best food, you remember, don't you? Oh yea," he turned back to the blondes, "who are you two off to see? I heard Roderich recommended someone to you."_

_They shrugged, "do you know a Bella and a Lars?"_

_Antonio looked up for a moment and smiled, "yea, I know them, I was with them once. Lovino, you remember Bella and Lars, right?"_

_The brothers stared, "You were with them once?"_

_A nod, "Yea, it was fun!"_

_Alfred frowned, "What do you mean 'fun'?"_

"_We had lots of fun before Lars ran away, but it was fun."_

"_That sounds more like traumatic memories than fun ones…" the younger boy muttered to himself._

"_Those two were really close and you could see electricity from their bond sometimes!"_

_Matthew looked around, "Isn't that called tension…?" But no one heard him._

"_Oi Antonio, hurry up and get inside! I'm hungry, damn it!"_

_The Spanish man waved goodbye to them, "ah Lovino, you used to be so cute…oh yea, you two should come out with us for breakfast not tomorrow but the day after, that's when they have that special breakfast thing, it's a really good restaurant, you'll love it! Well anyways, have fun with those two. Chau!"_

* * *

He was shaking the younger boy by the shoulders now, "if they really are creating electricity with their amazing bond and if we find a way to harness it, we could become rich overnight!"

"A-A-Alfred st-top it-t," when the shaking finally ceased, Matthew took a moment to regain his senses, "I don't think he meant real electricity…"

"Oh my god, you know what!?"

"What is it, Al?"

"Even if we don't harness it, if they create enough electricity, they might blow something up! Then they'll be dead and we won't be able to ask! Hurry up, they need a hero! Alfred away!"

And so, Matthew continued getting dragged down the streets.

* * *

They were both out of breath by the time they reached the doors to a duplex. Inside, they could hear yelling, a lot of it.

"_Why is there this…this __**stuff**__ here!? I thought you said you wouldn't buy any anymore! It's illegal here! All of this! I don't care if it's legal back in Netherlands but it's not legal in France, alright!?"_

"_It's not that big of a deal! Calm down! Besides, who said it was legal in the Netherlands?"_

"_You're lucky Lux isn't here to be traumatized further by a brother like you!"_

"_You and Lux are practically the same age…"_

"_Whatever!"_

"So should we ring the bell…?"

Alfred continued staring at the duplex in thought, "you'd think they'd have a bigger house…all of Artie's acquaintances so far were born into wealthy families…"

"Maybe their houses in Belgium or the Netherlands are bigger," Matthew suggested.

The older boy nodded, "right, that's probably the case!" He smiled and rang the bell.

The yelling stopped for a moment, then the door opened and a tall man appeared, "who are you? So old…you guys are _neither_ of the things I asked for." Then something hit him in the back of the head, "what the hell, Bel!? That hurt!" Rubbing his head, he muttered under his breath, "wat een klootzak…"

"They're probably Roderich's guests! They're Arthur's kids! Stop scaring people off with your illegal activities!" The shorter girl shoved her brother aside and shook their hands, "hi there, I'm Bella, and this pedophilic jerk here is my brother Lars."

The man looked unfazed by her introduction, "oi, I do legal activities as well."

"I meant legal _here_," then after a moment of consideration, she corrected herself, "well, I guess you do _some_ legal activities…like planting tulips, tending to tulips, selling tulips and…and soccer sometimes and…biking…sometimes, and…I can't think of anything else…anyways, come on in you two!"

"Tch, whatever," he glanced over at the brothers, "I wouldn't go upstairs, it's kind of a mess right now."

The woman let out a soft scoff and led them to a living room, "wait here, I'll go get us some tea."

* * *

After the Belgian returned with a tray and they all settled down, she smiled, "we're basically profilers."

Alfred looked impressed, "profiling? Like the police do? Do you profile criminals as well?"

The woman nodded, "yes, that's actually why we're here right now. We got a call from the French police about a week ago, at first I thought they finally caught onto Lars and his stupid hobbies, but it turned out to be a job."

The American's eyes were practically sparkling with excitement, "That's so cool! Hey Mattie, doesn't that sound cool? One day, there'll be lots of shows about things like that with crime labs and whatnot, just watch!"

Bella laughed, "You two seem to be quite close, aren't you? So what was it that you wanted me to look at?"

Matthew pulled out the letter, "Roderich-san said you were good at analyzing handwriting and whatnot…"

The blonde eyed it for a moment and nodded, "that's right, graphology is my area of expertise. But first, would you mind telling us the whole story first?"

"O-oh, of course!"

* * *

When finally Matthew finished telling her everything, she took out the envelope's contents and blinked, "this is all he wrote?"

The brothers nodded.

She glanced over at her brother, "Lars, why don't you start?"

The tall blond crossed his arms, "I couldn't get much from that. Can't provide a physical description of any kind, but the guy was obviously more or less well off, seeing as he could take the kid to Canada and disappear overnight. And as far as I can tell, he wasn't happy leaving a child behind and wanted him taken care of, or else he wouldn't have left a letter with the kid's name on it let alone in a fancy hotel."

Bella nodded, "makes sense, it always surprised me that you can still think this rationally even after everything you do."

Lars snorted, "Whatever, what do you have on your end?"

"Everything lines up with what you say, there isn't a lot to work with but here, let me tell you a bit about his personality. Your papa, Mathieu, is an intelligent man who under normal circumstances, would be a more so influenced by emotion than logic though he will lean towards logic when necessary. Also, he's not a weak man, strong both emotionally and physically and he had pretty good control over both those aspects. His attention span's a little shorter than the average person's, just a little, so he could be easily distracted…let's see, what else? Oh yes, he can be quite materialistic, things like money and sex are probably large factors in his life."

Alfred let out a snort, "sex…how expected from a Frenchman."

Hitting his brother lightly on the arm, Matthew attempted to scold him, "Al! That's rude!"

The woman laughed, "You're definitely Arthur's boy! This man's also confident and enjoys being around people quite a bit. That's about it for his personality. Generally, from what I can tell, whoever your 'papa' was, Mathieu, he was anxious about leaving you. Here, if you'd like, I can also tell you what his mood was probably like while writing this."

The younger boy nodded, "if you wouldn't mind."

"Well, the neatest and I guess you could call it the most perfectly written words on this page are on the first line, 'Mon Mathieu chéri', now, when would _you_ write your neatest with the heaviest pressure?"

The brothers cocked their heads in thought, Alfred shrugged, "when would I write my neatest…? Wouldn't that be when I'm writing to someone important? Have to make sure you spell everything right and all that."

Matthew dipped his head in agreement, "or when you're writing to someone really close and you want to make sure they can read every word you write."

She nodded, "And what state of mind would you be when writing to these people?"

"Concentrated?"

"Content? I don't know how you'd word it, but happy on the inside."

Bella nodded again, "Exactly, this hints that he probably cared about you a lot. He probably wrote this slowly and with some difficulty, you can see that his hand was probably shaking, look at the bumpiness of the 'v' in 'vraiment'. He also hesitated on the first 'J', you can see the ink blotch where he began and how hard he was probably pressing into the paper. Then he rushed through the rest and hesitated again at the end."

Alfred raised a brow skeptically, "that's amazing, you just told us the guy's personality and his state of mind at the time. Can you actually tell all of this from three lines?"

The blonde smiled, "it's all there in writing, you can tell a lot about a person through their writing style, and then how they were feeling with all the smaller details, all you have to do is look. If you wrote a letter with no hesitation, there'd be a very distinct period here instead of having it trail off like that, and look at the last 'é' in 'désolé', see how it gets lighter and the tail is dragged out? It's all signs of hesitancy. Even the 'B' in his signature trails off and this paper was probably folded the second the ink dried, you can see how the lines aren't straight and no attempts to refold the letter were made. I'm sorry, it isn't much, but this is all I could get from this letter."

The elder blond grinned at his brother and wrapped an arm around the other's shoulders, "Hey, he didn't want to ditch you after all! And now we know, he's probably some rich fellow! …Mattie?"

Violet eyes blinked, he could feel his spine tingling from everything he'd just been told, "I'm sorry, what?"

"I said it's great that we know he's rich and didn't want to leave you behind."

"Y-yea…"

Blue eyes stared curiously at the boy, "aren't you happy?"

Matthew nodded, "of course, but I was just thinking…he didn't want to leave me behind in Canada but what if he changed his mind? What if I show up and he doesn't want to see me or something?"

Alfred frowned, "what are you talking about? Who cares? We're here for _you_ to figure out who this 'F.B.' guy is to shake his hand and hug him or something, not to see if he wants to take you back in or not. Remember? You're a Kirkland now! Me and Artie, we're all the family you need!"

His eyes widened as he looked over at his brother, "I guess you're right Al, thanks, I was getting ahead of myself there, sorry."

The elder brother shook his head and laughed, "Don't worry about it. Oh yea, we were talking to Antonio earlier and he mentioned that you were all 'together' at one point, what'd he mean?"

There was a long, awkward pause between the four before Lars groaned and turned away with a frown on his face, "Antonio…should've known…"

Bella let out a snicker, "just because you ran away…you and your little one man Dutch revolt."

"Hey shut up, I couldn't stand it there."

"During the war, we were both sent to Antonio's house in Spain since it wasn't really an active participant, not after the civil war that they had right before, all in all, it was safer than our home," the blonde explained, "at that time, Lovino was there as well."

Lars let out a snort, "yea, all you could hear from the house all day, everyday was 'Lovino, te amo!' and 'Lovino, ¿dondé estás?' or 'Lovino, ¡bésame!' It was like sexual harassment to my ears."

"…like you should be talking about sexual harassment…"

"Hou je kop, _zus_."

The woman shook her head, grin still on her lips, "no need to get upset, _broer_."

Returning a dark grin of his own, he shrugged and rested his arms behind his head casually, "oh yea, by the way _zus_, you're out of chocolate."

"…what?"

"Ja, while you were busy clearing out my things, I helped myself to your chocolate."

There was a change in atmosphere as the Belgian stopped smiling, "you _what_?"

"Just one word," kissing his fingers to make a mock-Italian gesture, he smirked, "_overheerlijk._"

Snarling at her brother, she seethed, "Say it again, I dare you…"

Defiantly, Lars returned the glare, "You heard me, all your chocolates are no longer of this world, may they rest in peace."

Her fists were clenched tightly, "…that was the last of my Belgian chocolate, you can't buy that brand here! …I'm going to break your face in and then I'm going to burn all your illegal porn."

The Dutchman laughed darkly, "You already _did, _remember?"

Within moments, Alfred leaned over in awe, "whoa, there's actually electricity! Can you see it, Mattie?"

The younger blond rose from his chair and dragged his brother with him, "I think it's about time to go, don't you, Al? Thank you both for your time, we'll just leave you two alone now, sorry for intruding! Bye!"

Once the two were out of the house, the siblings blinked and turned over to look at the door, "they looked scared, and they didn't even stay for lunch…I wonder if something happened."

Lars nodded in agreement, "Yea, how weird…if only they were a little younger…"

"Ah! It must've been _you_! You and your creepiness must've scared off Arthur's kids!"

"Me? Didn't they mention something about electricity before leaving?"

"…maybe."

"Weird kids."

"Yea…"

* * *

Once on the streets, Matthew gave his brother a happy hug, glad for several reasons. Alfred blinked, "are you _that_ happy to have made it out alive without getting electrocuted to death?"

The younger boy let out a laugh, "that and papa's letter…"

This caused the American to stiffen slightly, "Mattie…"

Violet eyes blinked and watched his brother, "yes?"

"You have to promise me something, alright?"

"What is it?"

Suddenly, he wasn't sure whether it was a good idea or not to help the other locate his previous father. He couldn't stand the idea of a random stranger stealing his little brother's affection away from him, not after their separation and reunion, not after all they'd been through, and especially not after his promise to mum. "Promise me that you won't run off with your 'papa' and leave me and Artie behind, alright? Even if he bribes you with money and French food!"

Matthew blinked a few times before grinning widely and hugging the other boy again, "you can be really stupid sometimes, Al."

A little offended, he frowned, "Hey, what's that supposed to mean!?"

"How can anyone replace you and Arthur? You've taken me in for the past 14 years of my life, did you really think a little French cuisine would make me forget you guys? Besides, I've told you plenty of times, Al, you're my brother and hero, right? And you can't just switch brothers or heroes that easily."

Alfred felt his face redden at the other's unexpected display of affection. Inwardly, he laughed triumphantly, _take that French guy! No one can replace a hero!_ "Of course you can't! Heroes are forever! Heroes and brothers! …and really thick eyebrows too, I suppose."

The younger boy nodded, "besides, we still only have his initials and social status to go on. It's not like we can go through a directory and visit everyone living in Paris with the initials F and B to check."

There was a pause.

The American raised a brow, "why not? Well maybe not so much as visit them as take a glance at their house to see if they fit the 'rich man' status."

"…you're serious…you're actually serious," he felt his jaw slacken, "I can't believe you're serious about this."

"That's a hero for you! We can go arrondissement by arrondissement! It can't possibly take _that_ long!"

Matthew shook his head, "there are twenty arrondissements in Paris, Alfred. Anyways, what about the people who aren't listed in the directory?"

The blond cocked his head for a moment before laughing, "Come on Mattie, what are the chances of that happening? It's not like we have a backup plan or anything, and I can only stay for, what? Let's see…about a week left? Yea, we've got about a week since we promised to spend some time with Artie before flying back, right? So if we want to cover the whole of Paris, we'll have to run around quite a lot every day. But whatever, we can talk about that later, come on, we should get lunch before finding ourselves a directory! Now where's the nearest McDonald's…?"

* * *

Nya~

Sorry if this was a slower chapter. Antonio and Alfred are the most KY characters ever, no? And here comes Al's amazing plan of action! Practical, isn't it? And I have no idea if Belgium's older than Luxembourg because it depends which treaty you count. Other than that, graphology's actually quite interesting to read about even though I should be studying and whatnot, but whatever. I found out a bit about my own personality while researching it (on the assumption that it's valid). I love the Dutch and their sayings, especially their proverbs. Anyhow, more to come! Thanks for the reviews! I love you all lots and lots and lots! Yes, well, I should probably prepare for upcoming exams...enjoy! _Rumble**ROAR!!!**_

Translations:

**_Wat een klootzak _**- What a jerk/scrotum (Dut)  
**_Zus - _**Sister/Sis (Dut)  
**_Broer - _**Brother/Bro (Dut)  
**_Overheerlijk - _**Delicious (Dut)  
**_Hou je kop - _**Shut your face (Dut)  
**_Sí, voy a visitarlo. ¿Quieres venirte conmigo? - _**Yea, I'm going to visit him. Want to come with me? (Spa)  
**_Te amo - _**I love you (Spa)  
**_Bésame - _**Kiss me (Spa)  
**_¿Dondé estás? - _**Where are you? (Spa)

**Fun fact: **Like Vancouver, marijuana isn't actually legal in the Netherlands, it's just highly tolerated.

I just realized that venirse can have a different meaning depending on the context. Let's just leave my revelation at that...fusososososo...


	7. Chapter 05b

Papa Chéri

Chapter 0.5b:

_Berlin, 1944_

Gilbert stared at the area in front of him in shock.

The store that normally provided them with food had been bombed to ruins. Scratching the back of his neck, he wondered what he was supposed to do in such a situation. There were still a couple of weeks before new rationing cards were distributed and he couldn't go home empty-handed; after all, they were almost out of food. Just then, the air raid sirens went off, and he watched as the panicked crowds disappeared from the streets. He was about to follow them when he noticed that amidst the chaos, there was treasure on the ground.

A small pouch was laying there, the string which must've attached it to a piece of clothing torn. He picked it up and emptied it even as the sirens blared and howled in the background. There were rationing cards and Reichsmark, not many, probably just what the owner had intended to buy that day. And with no name or address to return the pouch to, there was nothing he could do except keep the contents. Gilbert perked up and began scouting the area for more lost goods.

He gave a jump as a bomb landed a few blocks away and wondered if he should abandon his quest, but they had so little food left… Straightening himself out, he let out a weak laugh and tried to cheer himself up, "this is so much fun, looking for treasure in dangerous situations by myself! I'm having such a great time alone and not being scared, I think I'm going to cry from the excitement!"

As he continued, he told himself rationally that they wouldn't be able to last a few _weeks_ from _scavenging_. And the cards in his hands would only last a couple days maximum. Looking around, he noticed that there were other brave and desperate people, and a surprising amount of children scouring the area. Quickly stuffing the cards into his pocket and erasing any rational thought in his mind, he dropped the pouch and continued.

A boy nearby noticed the prize he looted and marched over, "hand it over!"

Gilbert blinked, trying to read the boy's lips, "what?"

"Hand over what you just found!"

He studied the boy for a moment. It was clear that the other hadn't showered in a long while and was as scrawny as boys could get, his raggedy clothes handing loosely over his bony frame. A little guiltily, he realized that the boy was probably an orphan. But upon thinking that, he realized that he wasn't any better except he had more resources at his disposal. He shook his head, "No way, _I _found it!"

"Hand it over!"

"I said no!" Their yells were effectively muted by the blaring sirens around them. Since vocalizing their argument proved rather fruitless, the boy went ahead and punched him. Stumbling back a bit, he wiped his nose only to realize that it was bleeding, wiping the blood away, he frowned before launching himself at the other.

When the boy finally backed off with a scowl, he stood there, feeling victorious for a moment before remembering his task at hand and continued looking for discarded rationing cards.

That proved to be useless so after the sirens stopped howling, he ran over to the appointed store on the cards and bought what he needed before running back home. Opening the door to their room, he poked his head in, "West? You here?"

"Bruder!" The blond looked over excitedly for a moment before his eyes began getting watery, "Bruder?"

Since Ludwig wasn't one to cry very easily, Gilbert immediately ran over to console him, "w-what happened? You're alright, aren't you? Are you sick again, West? Are you hurt?"

The boy shook his head and pointed to his brother, too lost in his crying to come up with coherent words, he repeated one word over again, "Bruder…Bruder…"

Blinking, he touched his eye only to wince, "oh this? It's just a black eye! Some kid was trying to take our food and money so I tried to tell him off but that brat decided to sucker punch me instead! But don't worry, he was no match for the awesome me! El'za's punches were about ten times more painful, and she's a _girl_! Besides, this was something I had to do as a man, you know? One day, you'll have to do something that you have to-as a man, maybe when you're more grown up. Did you think your awesome Bruder would get beaten by a brat?"

Sniffling, blue eyes continued watching the older boy as he shook his head.

"That's right!" He picked the blond up and wiped his tears away, "now that we have food, let's go make something to eat, you can watch me, alright? I'll even let you sit on the counters this time, doesn't that sound fun? Now what do you feel like eating?"

"Wurst," Ludwig let out quietly, clinging to his brother as tightly as possible, hiccuping every now and then.

"Kesesesese, alright! We'll go make your favorite for dinner then!"

* * *

During meals at home, he'd always give Ludwig as much as he could spare without starving himself or running out before the next cards were distributed. He _would've_ been thriftier but every time he thought about it, he was reminded of Roderich's frugality which would then prompt him to buy a little extra just incase. Then, before it got too dark, he'd read old manuals he found to the boy to teach him how to read. "First step: untwist the top in a counter-clockwise motion…"

Although they weren't very interesting, the younger boy always listened with wide, attentive eyes. Together, they'd sleep in the bed in the nursery, the one Mutti died in, not that he'd ever told the blond. And during winter, he'd go out and collect newspapers to bundle up under their blankets while Ludwig would scour the house and guest rooms to collect spare pillows and bedsheets. Food was always a problem in winter, but luckily, they lived far away enough from central Berlin to avoid the thieves and scavengers roaming the city.

Every now and then, one of Francis's birds, Pierre number something or other, would show up. How the French boy trained his birds was beyond him, but they'd always carry a letter and a little package, usually filled with Reichsmark.

"_Dearest Gilbert,_

_If this gets to you, then my little communication line of birds to Germany is still intact and working. I've already been in contact with Antonio who sent a picture of the cute little boy at his place and an unhelpful reply of 'PFFTTTT LOVINO'S SO CUTE!' and such. It's nice to see he's doing well despite his country's situation with the civil war before and whatnot, perhaps it's due to his little adorable Italian charge, I wouldn't mind taking that one home with me… Come to think of it, you've also become a doting older brother, haven't you? I wonder if your little brother's as adorable as Antonio's little boy. Seeing you and Antonio, it makes me want to go out and get a little angel for myself to love and adore. I'll cook his favorite foods, dress him in the best clothes and he'll call me 'Papa', and I'll dote on him and make sure he stays away from insane British men…oh it will be absolutely delightful! But that would also mean I'd have to give up #$^#$#$ing and $^#^$#ing and #^#$#&!$&ing, and I simply can't see myself willing to do that at the moment. Who knows, perhaps one day I will._

_So anyways, I heard from a chain of people what happened and I was trying to think of ways to help you out-by the way, I'm in England right now. It's unfortunate, I know, it's so dreary here, and the food's disastrous not to mention sparse. Out of all countries to have to go to, my poor beloved home is probably in ruins by now! I can't wait for this war to end, I want to go home! I refuse to spend a significant portion of my life surrounded by these English speakers and their 'bloody' and their 'chap' and their 'git' and their 'sod' and their 'bloke' and whatnot! I miss Paris, my one true love! Yes, well anyways, I'm terribly sorry for all that's happened to you and hope you're getting along one way or another. I didn't know what to send, so I sent a bit of the money I had left from my last visit to Germany, I know you'd probably rather get food delivered to you but Pierre can only carry so much, and it'd rot; anyways, food's probably harder to get here than over there. Why am I in England! What have I done to be subjected to this cruel punishment? It makes me want to cry when I think about what the state of my house must be like right now, my poor Paris! When I get back, I will go give my beloved Eiffel Tower a hug and a kiss for sure! I want to go home…_

_Always thinking of you with love,  
__F.B."_

Because his letters were always written in French, it always took him awhile to decipher all the complaints and news of 'hellish England'. So to get back at the blond, he'd write in German.

Then Ludwig walked into the room and looked at the piece of paper questioningly, "Bruder, who?"

He looked over and pulled the boy onto his lap, "just this guy I know. Hey West, how about I teach you French? This way, you can be even more awesome! And you can even help me write a reply, it'll help you with your German! Okay, let's do the reply first. _'Hey Franny, How's England treating you?_' Kesesesese, take that Frenchie, _'I am awesome, as always! Do you want to hear about West? He's obviously a gazillion…_' how many zeros are in a gazillion? Whatever, I'll just write out the word! '_…a gazillion times more awesome than Antonio's kid_.' Alright West, say something about yourself! You are…"

Without hesitation, the blond blurted out "Ein Produkt aus Deutschland!"

Gilbert let out a laugh and gave his brother a hug, "That's my awesome little brother! You're definitely an authentic product of Germany! Alright! _'West is an authentic product of Germany which obviously escalates his awesomeness to the point where other kiddies can't even compare!_' Okay, what else should we write now?"

Sitting on the other's lap, Ludwig never complained about how uncomfortable the other's bony legs were.

* * *

_Berlin, 1945_

He'd gotten used to running around, looking for discarded rationing cards. For the past few months now, food had become scarcer, and so had their money supply. Thanks to Francis's continual contributions, they still had enough saved to at least another two trips. Gilbert shivered, as a breeze blew past, clutching his worn out jacket tightly, he carried on. He wondered how his brother was faring at home; after the blond had outgrown all his clothes, they didn't have enough to buy new outfits so he walked around in his brother's old clothes with a blanket wrapped around him as a makeshift jacket.

The raid was ending as he stumbled across an empty wallet and sighed, he'd have to use his last cards after all. Shrugging it off, he told himself that the next cards would be handed out in a few days anyways, though there'd been times where they'd been delayed.

Shaking his head, he made his way over to the shop, avoiding suspicious figures, soldiers and the eyes of all the propaganda posters that covered the walls. That day, he managed to buy half a loaf of bread and a couple potatoes. He smiled excitedly to himself and ran home, it'd last a couple days, maybe even a week. It wasn't much but at least they'd last until the next cards were given out.

He hoped the war would end soon.

* * *

As the seasons changed from winter to spring, he cheered when the war ended for Europe. Although Germany lost, at least life would start getting back on track for them. Foreign officers and vehicles stationed themselves all over Berlin, most of them Russian speakers, either way, it wasn't helping their low supply of food. And without air raids to scavenge for cards and money, they found themselves with less to eat than ever before.

* * *

It was late autumn and they were huddled together under their blankets when someone entered the house. Upon hearing footsteps, Gilbert quickly grabbed the large stick he kept by the bed for defense. Then the door opened and his eyes widened, "Opa!"

His grandfather looked equally shocked to see him though he also let out a sigh of relief, "you're alright…"

Gilbert ran over and hugged the man, "and you're alive!"

The other merely nodded and looked over at the other figure under the blanket, "who's that?"

"West? He's Ludwig! He's my little brother!" He motioned for the boy, "hey West, come over here, this is Opa!"

The two blondes stared at one another, a mutual understanding of some sort was immediately established. "Is everyone else…?" Gilbert shook his head. The grandfather frowned, his beautiful daughter was gone, his son-in-law was gone, Fritz was gone and his grandsons were comparable to toothpicks. He pursed his lips as he looked at the two, "so skinny…there's food outside"

The pair's eyes widened at the mention of food, their mouths watering, "really? Food?"

Giving a silent nod, he led the children outside where the strange Italian man was, "are these your grandsons? How cute! You know it's not safe for them here, right? I had to send my precious Feliciano over to France! But I suppose it'll be alright, I've also sent Elizabeta and Roderich to look after him along with the rest of my money and food sent in from all over, maybe you should send your boys over as well? Berlin's going to get ransacked by all those soldiers soon."

Their grandfather shrugged, "yea, that's probably a good idea." He looked at the younger child who was sticking a piece of fruit in his mouth, "he's quiet…"

Gilbert paused in his eating and laughed, "He's just shy, hey West, can you say Opa?"

Ludwig glanced from his brother to the man before obediently repeating after the other, "Opa?"

The man's lips twitched only to get a slap on the back by the laughing brunet, "how adorable! Are you trying to smile at the bambino? I've never seen you this cute before! Hey kid, did you take care of your brother all by yourself?"

He grinned, "of course, I'm awesome like that!"

The Italian tousled his hair affectionately, "quite an amazing kid you've got here, can still smile like this after everything! I've seen grown men unable to do what he's doing right now! So I've decided, you two absolutely _must_ go to Paris and help raise my little Feliciano! Besides, I'm sure France's economy will be booming again in no time! When you see my Feli, make sure you tell him that his nonno misses him and loves him lots and lots and lots when you see him!"

* * *

_Metz, 1945_

And so, at the old man's insistence, a few days later, they were put on a truck and stowed away to France with a map, a compass, food and money. They were dropped off at Metz with an apologetic "sorry but this is as far as I go. Word of advice though, speak French, the people here might still be upset, you know?" and then the man drove away.

Gilbert ignored the tightness of his chest at the thought that they'd left Mutti and Alte Fritz behind just like that. He didn't want to forget them, actually, he wasn't sure he wanted to move on, not after having to survive all the air raids and people-herding soldiers. But looking at his brother, he took the boy's gloved hand and handed him the compass, "alright West, do you have your scarf on and your coat buttoned up? It's going to get cold! Today, I'll teach you how to read a compass! If we see people, we have to speak French, alright? Do you remember the French I taught you? It's…a game! First step is to blend in!"

Ludwig watched his brother and nodded seriously, "je comprends." Then thinking back to what he'd learnt from the letters, he added "je déteste l'Angleterre. Je veux rentrer chez moi."

"Kesesesese, grandiose, allons-y!"

Just like that, the two slowly made their way to Paris by walking and hitching rides from friendly strangers who marveled at the pair of boys who were supposedly on their way to Paris to find their aunt after having lost their own parents to the war.

And somewhere on the way, as he was sitting on a field and splitting half a loaf of bread with the blond, the boy perked as he pointed to the elder's head where a little yellow bird had decided to rest on, "Bruder…bird…"

Red eye blinked and looked around, "Hm? Did you see a bird, West? Little birds are awesome, you know? Almost as awesome me!"

* * *

_Paris, 1945_

It was winter and near the end of the year when they finally arrived. Gilbert grinned at his brother, "Look West, we made it to Paris! Now let's find this place!"

The sun was setting and the blond was getting tired, head dipping every now and then and falling behind despite his efforts. "Bruder…"

He looked back, "oh, right, you've already walked a long way and I can't have my awesome baby brother's feet getting too worn out!" He kneeled down, "hop on."

Ludwig shook his head, a determined look on his face, "Ça va."

Gilbert laughed reassuringly, "it's alright West, look, we're almost there, it'll just be a block or two at the most! Really! It's nothing for your Bruder! I bet I could get there in ten minutes flat, so hop on!"

The blond nodded reluctantly and climbed onto the elder's back. They were out of food and money so Gilbert didn't want to delay their arrival anymore. He got up and continued walking.

It was another three hours before he finally reached his destination.

* * *

Excitement was coursing through his blood as he rang the bell, Ludwig had fallen asleep before he made it past the first block, but that was to be expected. The intercom buzzed and clicked a few times before a familiar voice asked, _"Oui? Qui est-ce?"_

He let out a laugh of relief, "Kesesesese, do you not recognize my awesome voice, El'za?"

There was no reply but the gates opened and as he walked down the walk way, two figures came running out to greet him, "Gilbert! You're alive! You have no idea how worried we were, you idiot!"

He snorted at the Austrian, "of course I am, I'm too awesome to die!"

Then he was whacked on the head repeatedly, luckily, not with the girl's frying pan. "You idiot! I tried calling you over and over again but the calls didn't get through! Do you have any idea how worried we were-_I was_ about you! You stupid jerk! Look at you! You're so skinny! Why are you standing out in the cold! Hurry up and get in, you stupid, stupid idiot!"

Roderich quickly nodded in agreement, "you're probably suffering from malnutrition, I'll go prepare something for you to eat."

"Make sure you make enough for two! I bet West will be hungry when he wakes up!"

"West?" Then the two noticed the blond boy he was carrying, "Ludwig? Your brother? You actually managed to take care of him?"

Gilbert grinned, "of course, it's because I'm awesome like that, you know? Now hurry up Rodney, I'm starving, I haven't eaten since this morning!"

Elizabeta frowned, "I'll go set up beds for you two, it's getting late, Feli's already in bed."

He shook his head hastily, "You only need to set up one, we've been sleeping in the same bed for awhile now so it'd be weird if it suddenly changed-for West I mean."

"Of course…" as he followed the two into the house, the girl turned around, "you idiot, we were all really worried about you, you know? If something had happened to you, even though you're really annoying, all of us would've missed you, a lot."

"She's right, Gilbert. Never do anything like that again, you idiot."

He laughed, "It's alright, the awesome me is here now! I'd never leave you guys worrying about me for too long, I'm too awesome for that!"

* * *

_Paris, 1948_

Gilbert stared at the ceiling of his cold, lonely bed. Ludwig had decided that he was too old to be sharing a bed with his Bruder (with Feliciano jumping in every night) and so, he moved to another room. Red eyes grew slightly teary as he laughed, "It's so great to be sleeping alone! This is so amazingly great that I can barely contain my tears!"

There was a small knock on the door and Roderich poked his head in, "was that you yelling, Gilbert? Is something wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing's wrong! Everything's awesome! Are you having troubles sleeping? Don't tell me you wanted to sleep in my awesome bed with me, Rodney!"

Huffing, the Austrian turned and slammed the door, "I don't have those kinds of hobbies, you idiot!"

"…kesesesese, it's so fun sleeping by myself!"

That night, he dreamt of Mutti and Alte Fritz and woke with a start. Quickly wiping his tears away, he snuck down the hallway and crawled into Ludwig's bed.

And when the blond woke up the next morning, he looked at the two uninvited figures in his bed and frowned in confusion, "I could've sworn I went to bed alone last night…"

* * *

_Paris, 1952_

"So what'd the tutor teach you boys today?" Elizabeta asked over dinner.

Feliciano smiled, "ve, he wanted us to show our appreciation to people today!"

"Is that why you two were doing all those chores?"

The Italian boy nodded happily, "Yea! Thank you for everything up until now!"

Ludwig copied the other's gesture, "yes, thank you…"

Gilbert grinned and ruffled the other's hair, "that's my awesome little brother and Feliciano! Well, it's been a long day, I think I'm going to hit the hay since I'm supposed to grace Franny the incredible sulk with my awesome presence tomorrow! Gute Nacht!"

As he headed up the stairs and into his room, he noticed a little card lying on his bed and blinked. Picking it up, he opened it and couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he placed it on his nightstand where Gilbird's nest and his little photo collection was.

_Für den ____besten Bruder der Welt,_

_Ich liebe dich! Danke für alles!_

_Ludwig_

* * *

Nya~

Here's the last part to Gilbo and Ludwig's background story! So finals are coming up...in a few days. I guess we'll see whether or not I'll manage to whip up another chapter next week, hm? Sorry if my German or French's off...as of the moment, it kind of works like this: my Russian is worse than my Dutch which is worse than my Hungarian and German which are worse than my French which is worse than my Italian which is worse than my Spanish which is worse than my Japanese, Mandarin and Cantonese which are worse than my English...anyways, wish me luck on my exams and enjoy!

**Translations**:

_**Ein Produkt aus Deutschland - **_A product of Germany (Ger)  
_**Bambino - **_Baby/small child/kid (male) (Ita)  
**_Nonno_** - Grandpa (Ita)  
**_Je comprends - _**I understand (Fr)_  
**Je déteste l'Angleterre - **_I hate England (Fr)_**  
Je veux rentrer chez moi - **_I want to go home (Fr)  
_**Grandiose, allons-y - **_Awesome, let's go (Fr)_**  
Ça va - **_I'm okay (Fr)_**  
Oui? Qui est-ce - **_Yes? Who is this? (Fr)  
**_Gute Nacht_** - Goodnight (Ger)_**  
Für den besten Bruder der Welt** - _For the best brother in the world (Ger)  
_**Ich liebe dich! Danke für alles** - _I love you! Thank you for everything (Ger)


	8. Chapter 5

Papa Chéri

Chapter 5:

_Paris, 1962_

The next day went by fruitlessly.

After getting called an idiot by Roderich several times for their ridiculous plan, and after running around Paris for a day, they realized that it was indeed, quite a ridiculous plan. Alfred gave a groan as he slumped down in his chair, "why's Paris so big? _Why_ are there so many people with the same initial as that guy!? _Why_ are there so many people with the names 'Francois' and 'Francis'!? _Why_!?"

They didn't actually run for a day, but several hours had proven to be more than enough to prove them wrong. Approximately fourty-six addresses later, they had promptly given up and decided to look for a place to eat dinner instead. Matthew sighed and rested his head on the table, "really, didn't Roderich tell you? Didn't _I _tell you, Al?"

Fixing his glasses, Alfred tried to regain his cool and waved a hand offhandedly, "Alright, alright, so plan A didn't go according to plan, let's head home after this and call it a day. We can think of another plan tomorrow."

"Aren't we going out with them for breakfast tomorrow?"

The American shrugged, a little disheartened, "that's fine, we'll figure something else out after breakfast then."

Although he was ready to go off and rant a bit, he remembered how he made the other cry that one time he vented a little steam for 3 hour straight, and he remembered why they were running around Paris in the first place. And seeing his brother's pouting face, Matthew sighed and shot the other an encouraging smile, "but on the other hand, you're really fit, aren't you, Al? Despite all that food you eat…especially all those burgers and fries…you managed to run around Paris for a day without losing your breath!"

Alfred returned the grin, "of course, a hero has to stay fit, you know!"

* * *

_There was the sound of singing…maybe it was 'mum's' singing, like Alfred had told him about before. The voice was feminine enough…he listened harder but none of words registered in his brain. Although he couldn't make out the words, the voice was sad and almost melancholic, but then it began fading into someone else's…a deeper, healthier voice… _

"_Mathieu, mon cher, ne pleure pas…hm, perhaps I should speak in anglais? Hush, don't cry now, tell papa what's wrong?"_

_He didn't remember why he was crying._

"_Tu as faim? Would you like something to eat?"_

_He didn't remember what his response was._

"_Non? Are you tired? That's understandable, it must've been a hard trip for such a…a petit thing such as yourself, and you've traveled so far from that place…but that's alright, je suis avec toi, papa est ici…"_

_Did he calm down after that?_

"_How about a little song? …now what was that silly song we used to sing…? Ah oui, tracer un cercle, voici la terre, tracer un cercle, voici la terre…"_

_Everything faded after that…_

* * *

The pair of blondes yawned simultaneously as they dragged their feet down the street, "Why do we have to get up so early for breakfast?"

Gilbert looked back at the two as he walked ahead with Antonio, "because, even though we're VIP's there, if we don't go early and they run out of seats and we won't get to eat!"

Matthew gave another yawn, "I thought there'd be more of us…"

The Spaniard shook his head a little sullenly, "Lovi and Feli decided to head out with Ludwig later…mi paradíso…" he grabbed the other man by the arm and began violently shaking him, "tu hermano los robaba! Devuélveme mi paradíso!"

"Whoa, calm down," the German quickly took a tomato out of his pocket and passed it to the brunet to appease him, "Stupid 'tonio…hey kiddies, we're here! This place is awesome-r for dinners but it's too troublesome trying to get seats at night."

The two stared at the elegant looking building, "isn't it a little strange to be eating breakfast in such a fancy place?"

Gilbert shook his head, "of course not, Franny wanted this to be awesome by opening it for breakfast, lunch _and_ dinner so that's what happened! Let's go get seats, I'm starving!" Glancing back at their sleepy faces, he laughed loudly, "You two are nothing like West! Man up!"

* * *

Once they were seated, Alfred stifled another yawn, "so who's this Franny person anyways? We've seen all these other people that Artie went to school with but not this 'Francis' character."

Antonio smiled, "Francis? He's really outgoing! We actually invited him to join us today but he's been really busy lately, he sent his regards though."

Red eyes looked over, "you two have _never_ heard of Fran? You mean Brows' never mentioned him, _ever_?"

The brothers shook their heads while the other pair exchanged shocked looks.

"Mein Gott, das kann doch nicht dein Ernst sein," the German muttered quickly before slamming his fists onto the table, "Fran was your old man's arch-nemesis! They were like…like cats and dogs, oil and water, spikes and cotton, apples and oranges, awesome and un-awesome, beer and wine, burnt stuff and tasty meals, _unicorns and nudists_!"

The American raised a brow in interest, "oh? I didn't know Artie had an archenemy, he's never told us about this before…but then again, he's never told us about being a tyrant either."

"I can't believe it…Fran probably single handedly caused your old man to hate all things French. Hasn't he even talked bad about the French in front of you kiddies?"

Matthew nodded, "he told us to run from nude people with good food, but that's about it."

Antonio laughed, "Nude people with good food? That sounds like Francis, doesn't it? He always seems to have so much fun running around naked, I joined him a few times too! Those were the days…"

"Ah," Alfred nearly stood up at his realization, "could this Francis person be that 'wine bastard' Artie always mentioned."

Gilbert nodded, "that sounds about right, any description?"

"Uh…the most perverted Frenchman of them all, charismatic, sly, and if you're not careful, he'll strip you nude within a minute."

"Ja, that's Fran, no doubt about it…"

Then their waitress arrived and took their orders. Alfred raised a brow and leaned over towards his brother as the other two began talking to the lady, "Mattie, what are crepes?"

"Crêpes? They're like pancakes."

The American exhaled loudly, "seriously? You're not sick of them yet? Why do you like them so much anyways?"

Matthew blinked and looked up to think.

"_Mathieu, que veux-tu manger…?"_

He shook his head as his mind went blank, "I don't remember…hey Al, do you think that that Francis person could be-"

"Nope, absolutely no way."

"Why?"

"Because we've already met a dozen Francis-es and there are probably hundreds more roaming around, and besides, Artie knows this one, and don't you think their little circle of friends would've made a big deal of it if one of them lost a kid? Especially since they're all rich, they'd probably employ all the policemen in France to look for him, no?"

The Canadian sighed, "Yea, that makes sense…"

A moment later, Antonio mimicked the sigh, "aw, Francis isn't in today, we missed him by a day. He comes back to cook every now and then, it would've been fun if you two got to meet him."

The German shook his head, "not really, he hasn't really been all that much fun since he lost his dog."

Green eyes blinked, "Wasn't it his cat? I remember he kept crying about his 'cher'."

A shrug, "whatever, he lost _something_, and all he did after that was whine about it. At least you were in Spain at the time, _I _had to keep him company…"

The Spaniard nodded, "well I came by a few times, I even tried my cheer up charm but I didn't work. He hasn't really stripped down or anything ever since then has he? …pobre de Francis…I wonder if he ever really got over that…"

"Yea, there's nothing sadder than a depressed nudist."

"Uh huh, I mean, you could tell he's super depressed right away, just by looking at his-"

The German cleared his throat loudly to cut the brunet off.

Matthew cocked his head curiously, "when was this?"

Gilbert frowned, "when? At least a decade ago…let's see…" he began measuring the air with his hand, "West was about this tall so…I guess about 12 years ago? 1950-ish?"

Alfred looked over at his brother and ruffled his hair, "it was worth I try I guess." He would've said more but their dishes arrived with a 'bon appetite'. Blue eyes widened in surprise, "hey, your crepes even come with maple syrup, isn't that _bon_!?"

The younger boy laughed, "Yes Al, that's very bon."

* * *

And within moments, the American was stuffing his mouth like he would've at home. The brunet laughed, "Hey Gil, doesn't he remind you of you way back when?"

The German looked at the blond before shaking his head, "no way, I was never like _that_, Alte Fritz and them taught me better than that! I was way more awesome!"

Never one for dropping topics, Antonio rubbed his chin in thought, "No, I'm pretty sure you were like that…oh yea! Don't you remember how Francis used to try to correct you every time you ate? And every time Arthur saw you, he'd give you that look and call you 'unsightly' and walk away! Don't you remember all that!? It was so fun! And how no one could do anything until Elizabeta caught you and threatened to beat you up if you didn't take lessons from Roderich?"

Gilbert avoided eye contact with his friend and gave a reluctant laugh, "oh yea…now that you mention it with such…_vivid_ _details_, I think I remember something like that happening…thanks 'tonio…"

The Spaniard shot him a grin in return, "De nada, I can't believe how forgetful you're becoming, you really are getting old, aren't you, Gilbert?"

Alfred looked over at the German, "o-ahe atsza'eel ih'u'ee'uhn eis?"

Ruby eyes stared at the younger boy in confusion, "What? I have no idea what you just said."

Matthew frowned, "Al, should you really be asking something like that?"

"S'auhit!"

"But…"

The elder two gaped, "you understand him!? That's like another language altogether!"

"Yea well, years and years of practice…Al, I don't think you should ask him…"

Alfred swallowed the contents of his mouth and shook his head, "no way, I've got to know! Hey Gilbo, what's the deal with the three of you guys anyways?"

Gilbert looked over at Antonio before turning back to the American, "the three of us? Me, 'tonio and Fran?"

"No, the other two! Roderich and Elizabeta! What kind of love triangle is this!?"

The Canadian sighed, "Al…"

"Oh, that? That's easy!" A smirk, "isn't it obvious? Those two fell in love with me since I'm so awesome and now they're secretly fighting over me!"

The Spaniard cocked his head to the side with an innocent smile on his lips, "really? Francis always said that Elizabeta was either in love with the both of you or she was in love with the idea of the two of you in love and ruthlessly doing something together…? Or something like that!"

The German quickly turned to the brunet, nearly spitting out his drink as he yelled loudly, "Nein! That's completely off! I don't know what kind of messed up ideas Fran's been stuffing in that empty head of yours but that's definitely not it!"

And that's how the rest of their meal went.

* * *

After their meal, they headed outside where the pairs split up. Gilbert ruffled the younger blonde's hair, "hey kid, even if you don't find your old man, you've still got another one back in London, don't you? Remember that, and try to enjoy yourself while you're still here, I mean, after you get back, Brows will probably never let you set foot in France again so you might as well, you know…"

Antonio smiled, "Gilbert, you're so cool! Your brotherly side's coming out again! It's so unlike you! You're usually lame and kind of pitiful! Oh, is this why Ludwig looks up to you still? Did you know that one year, for April Fool Day's, we got him to help us out with the pranks but he kept saying 'as long as you don't pull one on Bruder', he was _soooo_ protective over you! That reminds me of when Lovi was younger, he was so cute, and Feli…those two were so cute, pfffttt so cute! I still can't get over cute they were-ah, los niños eran tan adorables…quiero raptarlos…"

The German's face reddened but he smacked the Spaniard on the head, "hey Antonio, I think you need to exercise some self-constraint…but, of course West adores me! I'm awesome like that! Anyways, viel Glück_!"_

The brothers waved back as the two disappeared into the crowd, the brunet happily latched onto his friend's arm and talking incoherently away about kidnapping small children. Matthew sighed as they made their way down the street, "You know what, Al?"

The American blinked, "what is it, Mattie?"

"I think Gilbert's right."

Alfred shot the younger boy a confused look, "Hn?"

He smiled, "We only have a few days left, let's just enjoy ourselves. We should probably buy a souvenir for Arthur, right? Let's go look for something."

Azure eyes blinked again, "wait, did I hear you right? You want to throw in the towel?"

Matthew shook his head, "not necessarily, but I'm just saying…we don't really have to spend all our time and energy into looking for someone who might not be here, that's all. If there's anything new, of course I'll want to look into it, but for now, we can do other stuff as well since I don't want our entire vacation to be ruined if we don't find anything in the end."

Alfred sighed, "Alright, whatever you say, finding Artie's gift is probably going to take awhile. He hates all things French, doesn't he?"

The younger boy smiled, "I'm sure we'll find something…disguisable. Hey, why do you think Arthur's never told us about all this before? About all these people and everything he used to do."

A laugh, "don't think too hard, Mattie. Well, for one thing, he's probably trying to set a good example for us, so by mentioning that he used to be a violent delinquent probably wouldn't have done him any good. And these people, I don't know, maybe he thought it'd be bad if we were exposed to these kinds of people-that, and they live in France of all places, this is like the one place that's got a natural repellent against him, maybe I should've moved here instead, it would've been cheaper than flying to America and starting everything from scratch."

The subject brought a frown onto the younger boy's face, "You know…after you left for America, he called me by your name a lot…we both missed you. Arthur will probably never admit it, but he was always worried about you, I've heard him call people up to check on you and stuff, you were the one he adopted after all. And he always kept ice cream in the freezer incase you decided to drop by unexpectedly…"

It wasn't that big of a secret that Arthur's favorite had been Alfred. The elder brother rubbed the back of his neck and sighed loudly before swinging an arm around the other's shoulders, "Stop it Mattie, we're here on vacation, don't try to guilt trip me like that…but I get it, we'll go find something nice for Artie and maybe I'll try getting along with him better after we get back, alright? I can't believe I used to get jealous…"

Amethyst eyes glanced over, "jealous? Of who?"

Alfred's face reddened, "what? No one! I didn't say anything!"

The Canadian shook his head and insisted, "I heard you though, tell me!"

Turning away, the elder quietly confessed, "Fine! I used to get jealous over the both of you! You, because Artie's attention was suddenly divided and I wasn't used to that since I'd had him all to myself for a year before then, and Artie, because _your_ attention was divided as well, and I was supposed to be your hero…and this isn't fair. Why is it that when we're on vacation, I end up spewing embarrassing things that I wouldn't normally tell people!?"

Matthew laughed, "Because I'm your favorite brother?"

"You're my only brother, Mattie."

"But still your favorite, no?"

Alfred sighed, "Yea, can't deny that…"

"I'm sure you've been looking for an opportunity to tell someone. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone or Arthur," sensing his brother's growing embarrassment, he quickly changed the subject, "speaking of whom, what should we get him? Food? Clothes? A painting? A miniature Eiffel Tower?"

The American shrugged, "not food, that'll go bad, and not an Eiffel Tower, he'll just get angry and yell at us for getting tricked into buying one from a Frenchie instead of running away like we're supposed to and then everything will just turn messy and loud."

And so, they spent the next few days gift hunting for Arthur.

* * *

It wasn't until a couple days later that they stumbled onto a clothing store that caught Alfred's attention. He tugged at his brother's sleeve, "hey Mattie…"

The other boy blinked and stopped mid-step, "hn? What is it, Al?"

"I spy with my little eyes, something with F and B written on it…"

Matthew quickly turned to see what his brother was staring at, "eh? Isn't that just another clothing store?"

"But look at the sign, doesn't it look familiar?"

Amethyst eyes focused onto the sign and widened, "…that looks kind of like papa's signature! W-wait Al, just because it's a little similar, it doesn't mean-"

Not sparing a moment, the elder grabbed his brother's hand and dragged the younger boy towards the store, "who cares? What've we got to lose? Let's go check it out!"

* * *

Once through the doors, a brunet store clerk who looked around their age greeted them with a smile, "bonjour-"

Alfred raised a hand to stop him, "bonjour, I'm really sorry, I know it's bad, terrible even, but even after all this time, I _still_ can't speak a complete sentence of French, so would you be so kind as to speak English?"

The poor clerk blinked, slightly taken aback, "o-oh, of course, sir!"

Then, a blond popped his head out from behind the counter, "oh my god, look Toris, there are like, customers in the middle of the day! Isn't this like, totally supposed to be our lunch time? Don't they have like, work or something? Quick, you should like, totally go help them!"

'Toris' turned his attention to his coworker, "Feliks, our lunch break isn't for another hour…and why can't _you_ help them? You haven't really done anything all day…or since we started working here for that matter…"

"Can't you tell I'm like, busy right now?"

"Doing what? All you're doing is eating paluszki behind the counter, I can hear and see you, you know…"

The blond paused in his eating for a moment, "Toris, did you like, totally forget? You're like, my lackey. Don't make me invoke Poland's rules and like, change Lithuania's capital to Warsaw!"

Alfred stared at the clerk in shock and whispered to his brother, "Mattie, can he _do _that!?"

"I don't think so…"

The brunet frowned, "but Feliks, we're in France right now…and I don't think Ponas Bonnefoy would be very happy if we're caught arguing instead of helping customers…I mean, he was already kind enough to give us jobs…"

'Feliks' paused again before slipping out from behind the counters, "…so I like, totally have to pee right now, like seriously, to the max. So like, take care of the customers, would you, Toris? Like thanks a bunch!"

"Feliks!" Defeated, 'Toris' turned to them and let out a sigh, "I'm sorry, he gets really shy around strangers."

Alfred raised a brow at the sight of the blond in a skirt running towards the back, "he? He's a _he_?"

"Yes, he just likes wearing skirts, that's all…" Putting on a professional smile, the brunet asked the pair politely, "So what can I do for you today?"

Adjusting his glasses, the elder blond returned the smile, "We're actually here to ask about the owner of this shop…Mr.…_Bonnefoy_, I believe?"

* * *

Nya~

It's May and my fingers and toes are still completely frozen! And I survived my finals! But I'll be going far far away in a couple of weeks and only some all-knowing being will know how the internet connection and electricity's like over there. Hopefully I'll finish this before flying over, but I can't really promise anything. Sorry for the slow chapter but I'm typing like mad to get the next one up, I guess we'll see how that goes. And again, please correct me if any of my non-Englishness (or English-ness) is incorrect! Enjoy!

Translations:

_**Ne pleure pas **_- Don't cry (Fr)  
_**Tu as faim? **_- Are you hungry? (Fr)  
_**Je suis avec toi, papa est ici **_- I'm with you, papa's here (Fr)  
_**Tracer un cercle, voici la terre**_ - Draw a circle, there's the earth (Fr)  
_**Tu hermano los robaba**_ - Your brother stole them (Spa)  
_**Devuélveme mi paradíso**_ - Give me back my paradise (Spa)  
_**Das kann doch nicht dein Ernst sein**_ - You can't be serious (Ger)  
_**Que veux-tu manger**_ - What do you want to eat? (Fr)  
_**De nada **_- You're welcome (Spa)  
_**Los niños eran tan adorables**_ - The kids were so cute (Spa)  
_**Quiero raptarlos**_ - I want to kidnap them (Spa)  
_**Viel Glück **_- Good luck (Ger)  
_**Ponas **_- Mr. (Liet)


	9. Chapter 075a

Papa Chéri

Chapter 0.75a:

_Brighton, 1946_

Stumbling through the empty streets, she clutched the two bundles closer to her. After what seemed like forever, her destination finally came within sight. Clumsily jogging, she ran up to the door and banged at the door.

Two women appeared at the door, the elder one with her gray hair tied up into an immaculate bun while the younger brunet shot her a worried look. "Yes?"

Restlessly, she stared at the two hopefully, tears already making their way down her sunken cheeks, "please, you have to take in my children. I'm begging you! They'll die if you don't!"

Unfortunately, the elder of the two merely took a step back and shook her head, "I'm sorry, we've already exceeded out maximum capacity. Please go find another orphanage."

"I-I can't, I've already-the other orphanages couldn't…I'm begging you," her knees buckled and gave way to her fatigue, "I'm begging you, just take them in, please."

"As it is, we can barely feed all the children we have now, especially during the winter, I'm afraid you're asking too much of us. I'm sorry, you'll have to find elsewhere to drop your children off."

And then the door closed.

* * *

Kneeling in front of those heavy wooden doors, she continued crying until minutes later, the younger caretaker opened the door and reappeared, "…you…you'll last until nightfall, won't you? I'll help you get your children in, come around to the side entrance when it gets dark, I'll wait for you there. But first, I need the name and age of your children."

She looked up, "oh thank you, bless you, I can't-I don't know how I can ever repay you!"

Quickly putting a finger to her lips, she turned around to check for the older woman, "I can't let matron find out…quickly now, their names."

Clutching the two closer to her, she nodded, "Alfred F. Jones and Matthew-"

The lady shook her head, "No, he can't have the same last name, not if it's going to stay hidden from matron…what's your maiden name?"

"Williams."

"Alfred F. Jones and Matthew Williams then."

A small frown tugged at her lips, "Alfred was born July 4th, 1943, and Matthew was born July 1st, 1944."

"…July 4th, 1943…got it, make sure you show up, the side entrance, remember that."

She nodded hastily as the door began to close, "yes, thank you, thank you, thank you…"

Lifting herself up, she began walking away. As she did so, one of the two bundles stirred, "…mummy?"

Looking down, she smiled, "what is it Alfred? Are you cold?"

A nod.

"Are you hungry?"

Another nod.

She shot her son a rueful smile, "it's alright darling, I'll get you somewhere where it's warm and where you'll be fed, alright? Just be patient with mummy."

Inquisitive blue eyes continued watching her as a small hand reached for a dangling strand of golden hair, "why crying, mummy?"

Violet eyes blinked, "Oh, I'm afraid something's blown into my eye, that's all. Come now darling, shall I sing you and Matthew a song? Do you think your brother would that?"

"Yea!" Nodding, he snuggled closer to her and listened to her for the last time.

* * *

That night, standing by the side entrance as she'd promised, she waited for the mother to show up. Slowly, a figure showed up, the same two bundles in her arms. Taking a longer look at the woman, it was clear to her that she hadn't eaten in days, straightening her skirt, she jogged over to meet the other, "which one is which?"

The woman lifted her left arm, "this one's Matthew, and this one's Alfred…" lifting 'Matthew' she gave him a kiss and whispered quick words of farewell to him, "darling, mummy loves you so much, grow up healthy and strong, alright? Make sure you keep Alfred in check. Be good…"

Handing the sleeping boy over to her, she held the elder boy close. The boy stirred, "mummy…?"

She was crying as she gave him a kiss as well, "Alfred, I'm leaving Matthew in your care. You have to take care of him, that's the job of an older brother, alright? Be patient with him and give him a lot of love in my place…"

The blond hugged her, "What's wrong, mummy?"

"Mummy's going away for a bit, that's all, but she isn't sure for how long. So you have to promise me that you'll be Matthew's hero, alright? Do you remember what a hero is?"

The boy nodded, brightening at the word, "hero, daddy!"

The mother smiled, "that's right, a hero, just like daddy. Do you promise to be Matthew's hero then?"

Alfred gave a solemn nod, "promise, mummy!"

Another kiss, "that's my boy. Be good Alfred…" the woman's tears wouldn't stop flowing as she was handed the second child, "thank you…I…I…"

She held her own tears back and gave the woman a small smile, "I'm not sure how much food we can provide these two but they'll be warm and sheltered for sure, ma'am."

Dipping her head, she gave a final "thank you" before turning around and walking away without ever turning back to see her children one last time.

* * *

When the woman fully vanished from sight, she brought the boys in, "matron, another two have been left in the back!"

The elderly woman shot her a sharp frown, and for a moment, she feared that her plan had been seen through. But even if that was the case, the other said nothing of it, "another two? Was it from that woman earlier?"

She shook her head and pulled out the two fake letters she'd written up earlier, "I don't believe so, they have different surnames. Alfred F. Jones and Matthew Williams, ma'am, this one's 2 and this one's only a year and a half, the poor darlings."

Giving a sigh, the matron stood and headed for the kitchen, "another two…? I suppose it can't be helped, you seem rather attached to them already. Come now, I believe there's half a bowl of stew left, it was supposed to be yours but you can just share it with those two."

"Y-yes matron, thank you matron!" Quickly scurrying into the kitchen, she did as she was told and split her share of her supper between the two boys.

* * *

As the months went by, it wasn't very hard to become attached to the pair. While the matron wasn't watching, she'd always remind Alfred to take care of his brother. "You're 3 now, right, Alfred? Remember, Mattie's your responsibility, you're his hero, right?"

Blue eyes watched her excitedly as he nodded, "Yea! Mattie's hero!" Then, a bit off, Matthew tripped with a loud 'thud' and sat there for a moment, quaking slightly, ready to cry, but before the boy could burst into tears, Alfred beat him to the punch. She watched as he ran over and hugged his brother, crying in his stead, "Mattie fell! Mattie! Mattie! Mattie!"

And the younger boy would just sit there, pain forgotten as he tried to stop his brother's bawling. Even after she passed Alfred a band-aid, he continued sniffling and wiping away his tears as he helped blow on the wound and stuck the band-aid over the younger boy's knee. "It's okay, Mattie. I'm a hero…" he'd tell his brother through his sobs.

"Alf!" Matthew would giggle and hug the other boy's head. Then they'd go on playing as usual.

It was during those times that even the matron couldn't help but smile when she watched.

* * *

_Brighton, 1947_

Francis Bonnefoy stretched and made a content sound in the backseat of the car, happy to finally leave the horrible place he called 'Angleterre'. After over a year of reconstruction, finally, he'd be able to return to his beloved rebuilt house in his beloved rebuilt Paris. Unfortunately, at that moment, his driver stopped not only the car, but his happy train of thoughts as well, "…excuse me, sir…"

Frowning, he looked over, "what is it?"

"…I'm afraid I've gotten us into a bit of a rut…we're somewhere in the town of Brighton at the moment, but I'm afraid I don't recall the…specific directions to New Haven."

His eye twitched, "…did you just say that we've gotten _lost_?"

The driver fixed his cap sheepishly, "to put it shortly, I suppose…"

Giving a loud, frustrated sigh, he told the driver, "well then pull over and I will get you your stupid directions!" After the car was parked, he stormed out and headed for the nearest building all while muttering to himself, "it's because they drive on the wrong side of the road! These Englishmen and their sense of direction, and just when I was on my way back home as well!"

Rapping on the large wooden doors, he waited until a woman answered, "Yes, how may I help you, sir?"

Never one to show an angry face to women, he forced a polite smile onto his lips, "excusez-moi, mademoiselle, I'm afraid my oaf of a driver had gotten us lost. You wouldn't happen to know the closest route to New Haven would you?"

The lady opened the door, "oh, of course, please step inside, I'll find a map for you! Would you like a cup of tea as well?"

Stepping into the building, he shook his head politely, "Oh no, I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a rush."

On the way, he couldn't help but notice all the children around. She glanced over at him, "oh, don't mind the kids, they're all orphans. Hopefully someone will come by and take another one home today." Wordlessly, he followed her into when looked like an office where she began rummaging through piles of loose paper on the desk. "I'm sorry, we've had our hands full lately, I haven't been in here in awhile now."

"Think nothing of it, I'd hate to add any stress, especially for one as beautiful as-" he would've rambled on about the woman's features if there hadn't been a light tug at his jacket. Blinking, he looked down to see a sleepy blond clinging onto his jacket with one hand, "oh…bonjour…"

The small blond gave him a timid look and spoke in a small voice, "h-hello…"

The caretaker blinked and looked over, "Matthew? Darling, what are you doing here? Where's Al?"

"Sleep," the boy replied and raised a finger to his lips, "Alf said _'shhh'_."

While watching the blond, the Frenchman couldn't help but pick the boy up, "what a thoughtful boy you are, leaving people to their sleep. Mathieu, was it? Did you want to play with your friend?"

Matthew nodded silently and stared at the ground in disappointment.

Silently noting the lack of shoes to himself, he cooed at the child in a father-like tone, "Well no matter, I will play with you instead, alright? So how old are you?"

The boy smiled excitedly at the thought of having a new playmate, and held up three fingers, "t-t'wee!"

Francis returned the smile, "really now? Three already? You're practically grown up, aren't you? And do you have a favorite color, Mathieu?"

Another eager nod as he fumbled over the word in his excitement, "w-wed!"

"Hn…? Ah, red? _Rouge_? What a coincidence, that's my favorite color as well! Did you know, Mathieu, red's the color of love and roses and wine…and all these other lovely things" shifting the boy onto one arm, he pulled out the red ribbon in his hair and held it in front of him, "is this the color you like?"

Matthew gave a start at the red ribbon he was now holding in his hand, and a little frantically, tried to reach the man's golden hair. The Frenchman blinked and turned his head as the boy tried fruitlessly to retie the ribbon.

He couldn't help but laugh, "Oh? You like it more in my hair? Is that it?"

The boy nodded.

Setting the boy down for a moment, he found himself nearly lying on the floor, "Well, would you be so kind as to retie it for me then, mon cher?"

Fumbling with the ribbon for awhile, Matthew sulked as the ribbon simply wouldn't tie into a bow like he wanted it to.

Francis laughed took the ribbon from the child and sat up with his legs crisscrossed, "Would you like me to show you how to tie this? Now first, hold it like this, oui? Now twist, then this end goes under, you pull both sides a little, loop the ends around your fingers and repeat…I could've sworn there was story to teach this, but no matter. You pull both ends and voilà! A bow, is this what you wanted?"

Matthew nodded happily, "yea!"

"Does it look nice, Mathieu?"

"Yea!"

Not minding the dusty floors, he turned to face the boy and ruffled his hair, "Merci beaucoup, mon cher."

The blond shot him a sunny smile in reply.

Francis took a look at the boy's smile and quickly pulled him into a hug, "Ah, you're so adorable Mathieu, I can't believe what a little ange I've found here! Especially in Angleterre of all places, who would've ever thought…mon dieu, I'm turning into Antonio, but you're just _so_ adorable!" Pulling out the ribbon again, he handed it to the boy, "now, would you like to try again? Here, you can try it around my hand first so I can help you, non?"

Matthew took the ribbon and enthusiastically tried to repeat the steps that'd been shown to him.

"Très bien, twist, now one end goes through the tunnel here…"

* * *

After awhile, the caretaker finally found the map and turned around onto to see that the pair were lost in their own little world. After Matthew finally succeeded in retying the ribbon around the young man's wrist, he'd moved onto the blonde's hair. The boy gave a delighted squeal at the sight of the bow and the Frenchman gave a cheer and swooped the boy up into a hug. She smiled at the two, "sir, I've found the map."

Blue eyes blinked and pushed himself off the ground, "Ah, oui, I almost forgot, thank you!"

Amethyst eyes watched the man curiously, "we?"

Francis looked down and smiled, "oui, it means yes!"

Walking over with the boy still in his arms, he watched as she pointed out the shortest road to his destination. After that, she asked him lightly, "Are you from France, sir?"

The man nodded, smile still on his lips, "Oui, Paris to be more specific. Have you ever been to Paris, Mathieu?"

Matthew cocked his head and before shaking it, "Pari?"

"Oui, Paris, très bien! What a fast learner you are! You'd pick up French in no time! How would you like to see Paris? Would you like that?"

The boy nodded happily, "yea! We! Pari!"

"Are you thinking about taking this one in?"

The Frenchman turned around to see an older woman standing there, "taking…?" He stood still and thought about it for a moment. Antonio had his Lovino, Gilbert had his Ludwig, it really didn't seem that bad of an idea…but having a child also meant giving up so many things…but taking another look at the smiling boy in his arms, he felt his insides melt a little, and the very thought of leaving him behind in an orphanage with so many other children and in such terrible conditions…no shoes, probably English food, raggedy clothes, and dirty floors. He shuddered to think about it. Looking at the elder woman, he nodded, "oui, madam, I am."

The younger nurse turned to him in shock, "really, sir?"

"How can I resist such an adorable ange like this? After seeing him, how could I possibly bear to part with him?" Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a wad of bills and handed it over to the matron, "this is more than enough, non? I will have no more use for it after I get back to Paris anyways. Consider it a thank you gift for inviting me in and giving me directions."

The elderly woman nodded and accepted the money, "thank you kindly, sir. The boy's name is Matthew Williams, born July 1st, 1944, if you wanted to know."

"July 1st? What a wonderful birthday for you!" Francis looked to the two, "does he have any belongings or anything?" The two shook their heads, the younger woman still looking shocked at the sudden adoption. "Excellent, I'm afraid I have to be off now. Is there anything you'd like to do before leaving, Mathieu?"

The boy's eyes widened, "say bye-bye to Alf!" Setting the child down, he followed the running blond into another room where other children were sleeping. The boy leaned down over another blond and shook him a little, voice rising ever so slightly, "Alf! Alf!"

The other boy stirred, "hn? Mattie?"

Matthew beamed at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "bye-bye Alf!"

"Where y'goin'?"

"Pari! Bye-bye!"

'Alf' shifted onto his side and continued sleeping "'kay, bye…"

Francis smiled and held his arms opened for the boy, "Come along then, Mathieu, I'll show you how beautiful Paris is and we'll get you some new shoes and clothes and something good to eat. You poor thing, having to eat Angleterre's food for so long…"

Running into the man's arms, he waved excitedly to the women and spoke to them in that mild-mannered voice of his, "b-bye-bye!"

And just like that, the two left the building. His driver looked startled that he'd left empty-handed and returned with a child in his arms, "sir?"

"You have to take the next right on this street," he turned to the child, "now Mathieu, tell papa what you'd like to do. Buy shoes first or wait until we get to Paris?"

The blond beamed, "Pari!"

Francis laughed, "As you wish, Paris it is!"

* * *

The nurse turned around anxiously, "matron, are you sure…?"

The elder woman nodded sternly, it wasn't that big of a secret that Matthew had been her favorite since he arrived. "We're running an orphanage, we do what's best for the children, not what we want, and that was a once in a lifetime chance for Matthew. That man will clothe and feed him, and teach him with resources we cannot provide him."

"But what about Alfred, when he'll be devastated when he wakes up…"

As though on cue, there was a loud wail from the napping room. "_Mattie_!?"

The matron frowned, "I'm afraid he'll just have to learn to get along without little brother." There was a pause as the woman walked away, "Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

Giving the retreating woman a shocked look, she couldn't do anything but look down silently in guilt before running to calm the crying boy down.

* * *

_Dieppe, 1947_

After being asleep for most of the trip to Paris, Francis looked down at the child quietly climbing up and down the seats. He couldn't believe he'd just impulsively adopted a child. Wondering whether or not he was actually ready for such a responsibility, he couldn't help but smile at the boy and told himself that if Antonio and Gilbert could do it, surely he could as well.

Awhile later, tiring himself out, the blond sat back down as the train let out a whistle and looked around. And a moment later, he began crying softly to himself.

Quickly holding the boy, he bounced him gently on his arm, "Mathieu, mon cher, ne pleure pas…hm, perhaps I should speak in anglais? Hush, don't cry now, tell papa what's wrong?"

The boy continued crying.

"Tu as faim? Would you like something to eat?"

Matthew shook his head.

"Non? Are you tired? That's understandable, it must've been a hard trip for such a…a petit thing such as yourself, and you've traveled so far from that place…but that's alright, je suis avec toi, papa est ici…"

The blond calmed a little after that but continued sniffling loudly.

Holding his new son close, he looked up in thought, "How about a little song? …now what was that silly song we used to sing…?" That song from the school they went to…the song where everyone sang in their own language with their own lyrics, he smiled as he recalled it, "Ah oui, tracer un cercle, voici la terre, tracer un cercle, voici la terre…"

* * *

_Brighton, 1947_

Arthur Kirkland shivered as the car stopped, "are you sure this is the place? Are you sure I'm going to find one? I've already been to what, three other orphanages already? I'm never going to find one I like!"

His driver shot him an encouraging smile, "I'm sure you will eventually, sir."

Sighing, he got out and pulled his jacket closer to himself and walked over to the building and knocked on the door. A young woman opened the door, "hello, what can I do for you, sir?"

"Pardon me, I'm looking to adopt a child actually…"

"Oh," the door opened, "please come on in!" As he followed her in, she smiled, "would you like a cup of tea?"

"Yes please, that'd be delightful."

The woman disappeared into another room, "feel free to look around, sir."

Nodding, he slowly weaved in and out of the rooms until suddenly, a small child ran into his leg, "ow!" Blue eyes looked up at him in shock, "uhh…"

The two stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat, "…hello lad, what might your name be?"

The blond shot him a confident smile, "I'm Alfred F. Jones!"

He smiled back, "Pleased to meet you Alfred, I'm Arthur Kirkland."

"Artie? Cool!"

"A-Artie!?" Deciding to brush it off, he lowered himself so that he was closer to the boy's height, "…so what are you doing, Alfred?"

"Being a hero of course!"

Raising a brow, he watched as the boy pumped his fists into the air and couldn't help but thing of the blond as adorable, "A hero? How interesting, and why are you being a hero, lad?"

Alfred nodded excitedly, "Yea! To save Mattie!"

"Mattie?"

"Yea Mattie, gotta save him from…stuff!"

His brows furled at the boy's speech, "Gotta? No lad, it's 'I've got to' or even better, 'I must'."

Blue eyes blinked, "must? …no, I _gotta_ save Mattie!" He yelled and quickly clung tightly to the man's arm, "Gotta! Gotta! Gotta!"

"Hm? Alfred seems quite attached to you," instead of just the lady, the matron entered the room as well with a cup of tea, "here you are."

"Oh, thank you," he stood up with the boy still attached to his arm and asked the woman, "Who is this 'Mattie' lad Alfred keeps talking about?"

The younger woman sighed and set the cup down on a nearby table, "He was supposed to come in a pair, but the younger one, Mattie, Matthew Williams, he was adopted by another gentleman a few months ago."

"Matthew Williams? Why are their surnames different?"

She looked over at him, "The thing is, sir, if people knew they were brothers, their chances of being adopted would've lowered…people that come here generally only want one child, and if they found out the two were related, they would've felt obliged to take them both in and that simply wouldn't be a very…popular idea. Especially not after the war we've just been through, the people who can still afford to raise children are looking for replacements for their sons, you know?"

"…I would've taken them both in…" he muttered grimly.

The matron looked a little surprised before shooting him a sad smile, "Sir, as pleased as I am to hear that, I really wish you came a few months earlier, the boys would've been so happy. Poor Alfred cried himself to sleep for weeks when his brother left…"

Arthur frowned, "is there any way I'd be able to come into contact with this 'Matthew' lad?"

The elder woman shook her head, "Perhaps if you looked around Paris, but I highly doubt it. People have been coming in and out, taking the children, paying and leaving, it's such a hassle we haven't been able to properly sort out the paperwork. I'm afraid the Frenchman that adopted Matthew simply left a large sum of money behind, we don't have a name or address to contact I'm afraid."

"As expected of the bloody French," he muttered darkly to himself, "those wankers, running into orphanages and taking small children without doing any paperwork, he probably bribed the lad with food…I can't believe a Frenchman of all people, and Paris…it must be terrible for the poor lad, he'll probably grow up to be a nudist as well." Looking up at the matron, he asked more politely, "Do you know if the lad went to a good home or not?"

The woman shot him a small smile, "I like to think he did, he was such a mild-mannered child…besides, I've been working here for a long time now, I believe I've gained the ability to differentiate good parents from bad ones; that man had the same look as you."

Emerald eyes blinked, "Same look as me…? I'm afraid I don't quite understand."

"Feel free to correct me, but when I see you looking at Alfred, you have the look of a father. I believe you've already chosen who to adopt, am I mistaken?"

A moment later, the Englishman shook his head and sighed, "No, you're quite right. I've been just about everywhere looking for someone like this, who would've thought that he was hiding here all along. That's quite an impressive ability you have there, ma'am."

"Years of experience will endow you to such things. Come now, you have paperwork to fill out and fees to pay, sir…Alfred, do you plan on letting go of this gentleman any time soon?"

"No! I'm a mun-ki! Saw a picture before!"

"I thought you were a hero?"

"…I'm a mun-ki hero!"

The nurse sighed and shook her head halfheartedly, "he's quite an energetic boy…will you be carrying Alfred with you then?"

Looking down at the boy swinging form his arm, he let out a laugh, "yes, I believe I will. Come along now lad, you'll be coming back to London with me today, how does that sound to you?"

Alfred blinked, "London? Do they have heroes there!?"

Arthur smiled and patted the boy's head with his free hand, "they have a lot more than just heroes there, Alfred, you'll see."

"Yea! London! Cool! Can't we go _now_, Artie!? I wanna go now!"

"Wanna? It's 'want to', lad."

The blond pouted, "Wanna! Wanna! Wanna! Wanna go to London with Artie now!"

Eyes growing misty, he stared at the boy, "Alfred…"

Needless to say, Arthur filled out the paperwork as fast as he could after that.

* * *

Nya~

Amazing, non? After typing and researching for hours nonstop, here's the first half of Al and Mattie's adventure! I have no idea how much vocabulary a child has at the age of 3 and 4 so I guessed. And I'm extremely braindead at the moment, and I don't think I have the ability to see straight anymore, so I'll just leave it at this. Let's see how fast I can type up the next chapter, non? Well, until then, enjoy! Buona notte! I love you reviewers lots and lots and lots!


	10. Chapter 6

Papa Chéri

Chapter 6:

_Paris, 1962_

"Ponas Bonnefoy?" The brunet blinked, "what about him? Wait, who are you two and why are you asking?"

Alfred smiled, "I'm glad you asked," he held his hand out and shook the other boy's hand, "Alfred F. Jones, an American journalist. I'm going around interviewing the employees and owners of Parisian clothing stores on behalf of my company, which is looking to introduce new French brands into the market." He glanced over at his brother, "oh yes, and this is my translator, Matthew, you know, incase you didn't speak a word of English."

Toris nodded slowly, "I see…well, I'm sorry, Ponas Bonnefoy isn't in today, I believe he's working at his office."

Matthew stared as his brother continued skillfully weaving his lie, "oh, that's no problem. If you don't mind, I'll just interview you first, and then if it isn't too much trouble, you can just give me Mr. Bonnefoy's office number or address and I'll contact him myself."

"I-I'm not sure if that'd be a good idea, he's very busy and he's normally booked for weeks at a time-"

"Toris, are they like, still here? Can't they like, hurry it up?" The blond spoke as he shuffled and hid behind the brunet. "It's like, lunch time, you know…"

The American blinked as he took a closer look at the two, "…you two look about our age, why would Mr. Bonnefoy employ such young workers for such a high class boutique?"

Toris frowned slightly, "Ponas Bonnefoy's designs and clothes were originally cheaper but due to the popularity of his brand and pressure from outside sources, he had to pump up the prices and this is the result."

Alfred raised a brow, "but why did he hire teenagers? Sure, at first it'd make sense but by now, I'm pretty sure he could afford to hire professionals and whatnot."

The brunet shook his head, "I don't know why, but Ponas Bonnefoy's a very kind man. I was born Lithuania but my mother and I were sent to Poland to work at Feliks' house for safety, but it wasn't very safe there either so they sent the two of us away to France," the brothers nodded for him to continue, "we didn't have a lot of money with us to begin with, but thanks to our parents, we were able to get by until a few years ago."

Feliks nodded from behind the brunet, "Yea, and we were like, totally looking for jobs but like, no one would hire us for some reason. It was like, seriously uncool and we were like, majorly bummed out."

"Then we met Ponas Bonnefoy. He saw us and told us that he'd just opened a new boutique and that he was looking for people to work-"

"And he like, totally hired us on the spot!"

The Lithuanian smiled, "and so we're still here."

Alfred tilted his head slightly, "but I still don't get why a filthy rich man would hire a pair of teens to work in a high class boutique…did he have an explanation?"

The brunet looked up in thought, "well, when he saw us, he said something about not being able to stand the idea of anyone our age living such a hard life, not only did he insist that we work for him, he also provided us with a small apartment nearby to live in. Really, he's like a father to us!"

Feliks slung an arm around the other lazily, "Yea, he like, painted this place pink because I asked him to. Isn't he like, totally awesome?"

The American dipped his head in agreement, "that was definitely very nice of him, personally helping out needy children. Alright, so I've decided that I absolutely _must_ meet him! Socially responsible and generous, those are the exact traits my company's looking for! He sounds like the perfect candidate to do business with!"

Toris looked hesitantly at his friend, "I don't know if we should, Ponas Bonnefoy's address is a very private thing, very few people know it…"

The blond ran to the counter and returned with a slip of paper, "like, here you go! It's like, by the Trocadéro! This means we can like, go to lunch now, right? Let's like, get going already, Toris!"

The brunet's eyes widened, "Feliks, you can't just give Ponas Bonnefoy's personal address away like that!"

Feliks waved a hand offhandedly and pushed his friend towards the exit, "Don't be so uptight, Toris! They're just like, interviewers, right? And it's not like they're going to get in since Pan Bonnefoy's like, a total workaholic. Seriously Toris, nothing's going to happen, and besides, I'm like, seriously starving! By the way, did I tell you what I did last week?"

"Did you even hear a single word I just said!"

The brothers followed the two out as they flipped the 'open' sign around, locked the doors and ran off. Alfred glanced over at his brother, "Mattie?"

Amethyst eyes blinked as he turned, "yes?"

"You alright? You haven't said a word since we went in."

Matthew nodded, "I'm fine, I just never knew you could lie that well…"

The older boy grinned, "of course, acting's part of business, you know? Anyways, I think we've stumbled onto a good candidate here."

He raised a brow, "Oh? How can you tell?"

Reading the address on the slip of paper, he gestured for his brother to follow, "I'll explain on the way, let's get to this Trocadéro place first."

* * *

Somehow, on the way, they passed by a McDonald's and as expected, Alfred ran in to buy himself a burger. Once back outside, the two continued walking, the elder happily eating away at his burger. "So, I'm thinking this F. Bonnefoy person's a good candidate since first of all, he's got the right initials, and second of all, he's French, third, he's beyond rich, and fourth, with the way he more or less took those two in because he couldn't stand the thought of leaving children out in the streets sounds like guilt to me, doesn't it?"

Matthew blinked, "what do you mean?"

"Well think about it, those two were about our age, oui?"

The younger boy laughed and nodded in agreement, "oui, go on."

"And most people wouldn't insist on getting teenagers off the streets without a reason let alone provide shelter and stuff for them-being rich and generous doesn't pass as an excuse since he's targeting a specific age group. So I'm thinking guilt, a decade and half of guilt."

"Guilt…?"

Alfred nodded, "that's right, guilt. If Bella and Lars were right and your papa didn't want to leave you, he'd feel guilty for doing so, right? And assuming he couldn't find you again, the guilt would build up, and as an ex-papa, he would probably feel obligated to help people around his ex-son's age because A, he'd think of his son in the same situation and if he was a good papa, he wouldn't be able to stand it, and B, it'd help ease his conscience a little. So I'm thinking this guy's had some traumatic event happen to him in the past."

The Canadian frowned nervously as they neared their destination, "but Al, what if this traumatic event was actually traumatic? Like he lost his son in an accident or something, I don't want to bother a busy man for no reason, or worse, what if this brings back bad memories for him? That's just inconsiderate…"

His brother sighed and looked at him seriously, "Mattie, we're leaving in _two_ _days_, and you know we'll be stuck inside tomorrow, so this is our last chance-_your_ last chance. And look, this is one of those rare times in life where everything's either black or white, it's either this guy's your papa or he isn't, but either way, we don't get another try after this. So come on, what do you have to lose? You want to find your papa, don't you?"

The younger boy stood there, lost in thought for a moment before looking up and nodding to the other, a determined look on his face, "…you're right, Al, I've got nothing to lose except part of my dignity and sense of shame, so let's go ask."

Grinning, Alfred ruffled the other's hair and pumped his fist into the air, "That's the spirit! Let's go!"

* * *

"And I suddenly don't want to do this anymore, let's turn back!" Alfred let out as they faced a large private mansion. That wasn't the problem; the problem stood at the gates. A short blond man and a shorter blond girl stood there, one looking disgruntled while the other content, but that wasn't the problem either. The problem was that the blond man looked disgruntled _and_ he was carrying a gun. "He could shoot us on the spot! The girl probably won't, but the guy, oh my god, he looks trigger-happy! Just look at that finger, it's itching to pull the trigger! I know trigger-happy people when I see them, Mattie! How scary is that!"

The Canadian let out a soft scoff, "that's rich coming from you, Al. Doesn't everyone own a minimal of three guns in the States? And isn't half the population trigger-happy? And if I remember correctly, you keep a pistol in your desk drawer, a shotgun over your fireplace and I'm pretty sure I found one in your sock drawer the last time I visited."

"Well first of all, those guns are for safety and safety only, second, not _everyone _in America has a gun…some states have age requirements, and third…fine, let's go, it'll be your fault if we get shot," he huffed and stomped over to the guard, dragging his brother along, "excuse me, I have an appointment with Mr. Bonnefoy."

The meaner looking guard studied them for a long moment before nodding and opening the gates for them. As they walked through, the blonde spoke up, voice quiet and feminine, "I wonder if they're friends of Monsieur Bonnefoy…they look a little like twins, don't they, Bruder?"

"Hn, a little I guess. But either way, if they do anything weird, I'll shoot them both…"

Upon hearing this, the two picked up their pace and jogged inside.

* * *

Once inside the mansion, they were greeted by a tanned girl with long pigtails and an outgoing smile, "bonjour-"

"After running around Paris for the past few weeks, I now know for a fact that most Parisians know how to speak near-perfect English, so English please, Miss…" the blond glanced at the nametag on the desk, "Sesel…"

Matthew frowned, "aren't you being a little rude, Al?"

But instead of being offended, the girl giggled, "Don't worry about it. Alright, English it is!"

Alfred looked at his brother, "see? Practically perfect English!"

The brunette watched the two with a smile on her lips, "so how may I help you today?"

The American blinked, "huh…? Oh yea, I'm a journalist from America, and I was hoping for a quick interview with Mr. Bonnefoy."

"Okay, that sounds fine, and do you have an appointment?"

The blond stared in disbelief, "wait…are you his secretary?"

The girl laughed at his expression, "Oui, I am, indeed, Monsieur Bonnefoy's secretary."

"No way! But you can't be any older than us-me…us!"

Matthew sighed and shook his head, "Alfred, calm down, this shouldn't shock you, especially not after that theory you were telling me about earlier…"

The brunette put on an amused expression, "How cute, you two must not have heard all the stories about Monsieur Bonnefoy's generosity. Well, for myself, he saved me from an orphanage in Seychelles when I caught him a fish, and then he brought me here to be his secretary! He even hired tutors for me and gave me a place to stay!"

The elder raised a brow, wondering whether or not the girl's words were carefully chosen, "What do you mean saved? Shouldn't it be _adopted_?"

Sesel's smile dropped a little, "no, no, I meant saved. Monsieur Bonnefoy is not my papa though I will always think of him as one. He's already had enough…trying circumstances as it is."

The brothers exchanged curious glances, Alfred cleared his throat, "so do you think we can see him?"

"I don't know, wait a moment please," calling her boss through speakerphone, she asked the man nicely, "Monsieur Bonnefoy, êtes-vous là?"

There was a moment of silence,_"…oui, ma chère?"_

Matthew felt his heart skip a beat. The girl continued talking, a light giggle in her voice, "il y a journalistes américains ici…" she glanced over at them for their names.

"Alfred and Matthew," the elder supplied quickly.

The younger boy frowned and muttered, "…but I'm Canadian…"

Sesel didn't hear him, "les journalistes américains Alfred et Matthew, et ils ne parlent pas français."

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck, "well, Mattie does, but I don't…so English please…"

"Right, sorry," quickly switching back to English, she continued, "_one _of them speaks French. They were wondering if they could interview you."

_"Hm? I don't know an 'Alfred and Mathieu', do I? Do they have an appointment?"_

"Nope."

"_Then please pencil them in for my next available slot…and a little later than that if you can, I think I need to take a day off soon, I'm getting bags under my eyes from all this work. Merci beaucoup, ma chère."_

"De rien," and she ended the call, "you heard him. Would you like me to write you in for…two weeks from now at 3 o'clock?"

Alfred frowned, "we won't be here two weeks from now. And he was so rude too…well whatever, let's go Mattie, there's no way such an impolite guy could be your papa!"

Suddenly, the brunette angrily stood up with an upset frown on her lips, "oh no, don't tell me you're here about that too…that was already years ago!"

Blue eyes blinked, "what?"

"I thought you were nice guys, but you're just here to ask about the blank cheque, aren't you! Ugh, get out of here! Please don't come around here again! If you do, I'll…I'll get Vash to shoot you both!"

And so, they were promptly kicked out onto the streets.

* * *

Frowning, Alfred pulled his brother down the street, "come on Mattie, I feel like Chinese. Chinatown's in the 13th arrondissement, right? Isn't that where Ludwig and Feliciano's friend's at? Let's go visit him as well…Kiku, right? …Mattie?"

The other blond continued looking staring off into space.

Worried, the older boy waved a hand in front of the other's face, "Mattie? What's wrong? Mattie!"

Matthew blinked and looked at his brother, "eh? O-oh, it's nothing…"

The American raised a brow, "don't tell me you're not convinced that he's not your papa…I mean sure, he was nice to all those other kids but a complete jerk to us, maybe it's because he didn't see how old we were but either way! You can't possibly think he's your papa!"

He shook his head a little sullenly, "I don't know what to think anymore…I just froze up when I heard him speak…I don't know why, I just…completely froze up…"

"Well we can't really get in without getting shot so…and I don't know if you want to risk your life just to ask some stuck up Frenchie whether or not he's your papa. Anyways, first thing's first, food, then I want to find out about that blank cheque thing she was talking about, it sounded interesting."

Matthew looked around, "Al…"

"Yea?"

"You're going the wrong way, the 13th arrondissement's that way."

Alfred paused before turning around and letting out a loud laugh, "…I knew that! What kind of hero wouldn't know _that_!"

* * *

Finally stumbling upon a Chinese restaurant, they walked inside only to be greeted by a familiar face plus four. "Hey, if it isn't Kiku!"

The Japanese boy looked at the pair and blinked, "ah, Alfred-san and Matthew-san, right?"

The American grinned and gave the Asian boy a pat on the back, "Nice, you remembered! So what are you doing in a place like this?"

"I'm just visiting these people," he gestured to the other four, "this is Yao-san, Hong-kun, Mei-chan and Yong-Soo-san. They are…I guess you can call them my unofficial family."

The man with the ponytail let out an exasperated huff, "it's Wang Yao, Kiku!"

"Yes well, I like calling you Yao-san, and I like calling Hong-kun, Hong-kun, and Mei-chan, Mei-chan, and Yong-Soo-san, well I guess that's his name," Kiku replied a little defiantly.

The girl smiled, "I don't mind at all, Kiku."

"Yea, all your names originated from Korea anyways!"

The eldest Asian sighed and shook his head, "Aiyo, Yong-Soo, go set up a table for the customers, it's already been a slow day! It seems that Kiku's going through his rebellious phase…"

Alfred raised a brow as he took a seat, "feel free to sit with us. What did you mean by unofficial family anyway?"

Kiku shrugged, "they more or less took me in when I came to France, they're all from different parts of Asia so none of us are actually related. Yao-san's from China, he's like an onii-san to us all, Hong-kun's from Hong Kong so he's the only one that speaks and understands Cantonese, though he lived in England before so his English is better than ours…when he actually speaks anyways. Mei-chan's from Taiwan; and Yong-Soo-san's from South Korea…if he touches you inappropriately, just try to ignore it."

Alfred laughed and nodded in approval, "What an exciting bunch of people you have for family! Let's see, I want…wonton mien and some cha siu bao, what about you, Mattie?"

"…xiao long bao…"

Yao raised a brow at the two before ushering Hong into the kitchen to cook, "your Chinese isn't that bad, surprisingly."

"Did you know? All those things originated from Korea, including Chinese!"

"Yong-Soo, come help out in the kitchen!"

The American grinned proudly, "This is what happens when you eat Chinese every other day!"

"That's very impressive," the Taiwanese girl smiled as she set down the teapot, "here you are."

"Thanks!"

Kiku looked curiously at the younger boy as he took a sip of his tea, "Matthew-san? Is something wrong? Did something happen, Alfred-san?"

Alfred turned his attention to his brother and sighed, "oh, him? Yea, you know how we were here to look for his papa? Well we're leaving in two days, and today, we went to see some Bonnefoy person, he fit all the credentials but he was too busy to see us and then we got kicked out by his secretary and if we go back, we'll get shot by his trigger-happy guard, that's all."

"Bonnefoy?" Yong-Soo popped his head out of the kitchen, "did you just say Bonnefoy?"

The American looked over at the Korean, "yea, you know him?"

"Know him? He's from Korea! That, and I've met him once, right, hyung?"

"Yea, that was awhile ago though…stop being so wu liao and get back to work Yong-Soo. Hong, pass me the pot…"

"Yes, sir…"

* * *

Awhile later, the three reappeared with their orders, "here you are," Hong spoke to them for the first time, though his face remained blank, "please take your time and enjoy your meal…"

Yao nodded with a friendly smile on his face, "kuai yi dian chi la, and make sure you order more if you're not full! Yong-Soo, you're not going to tell them about that story…? That _gu shi_, are you?"

"Ge ge, you're speaking random words in Mandarin again," Mei chided the elder lightly.

The Chinese man shrugged and shook his head, "aiyo, I can't help it, some words come more naturally to me in Mandarin, that's all! You should understand!"

Alfred quickly stuffed a bun in his mouth, "st'eh? Dogh itaf od'ih da a'n'ek? Ith eyu'hoth!"

The five stared blankly at the American, "…Alfred-san, I'm afraid no one understands a word you're saying."

"He asked if the story has anything to do with a 'blank cheque', and he said that the food's very delicious," Matthew quickly translated for them as he picked up one of his xiao long bao with his chopsticks with some difficulty.

Yong-Soo pouted, "What? Don't tell me you've heard the 'lost Mathieu' story already?"

The brothers quickly exchanged surprised looks before quickly turning to the Korean, "no, please tell us about it."

* * *

Nya~

I love xiao long bao! And I really need to stop updating in the middle of the night. But who am I to stop my habits? I don't think I need to translate the Jap parts since that's pretty basic. I'm also too lazy to write accents on my pinyin since yea, I just am. And I'm also kind of too lazy to sound out Cantonese since it's harder, but seriously, how do you translate mo liu/wu liao into English! Oh, and please correct me if my simplified Chinese is off, I learnt traditional, let's just leave it at that. And Korean, I can slowly sound the words out and still have no idea what it means, that's about as far as that goes. As always, correct me if anything I write's off! Thanks for all the feedback and corrections! I like, love you reviewers, like seriously, to the max! Enjoy!

_**Translations**_:

_**Ponas**_ - Mr. (Liet)  
_**Pan**_ - Mr. (Pol)  
_**Êtes-vous là ?**_ - Are you there? (Fr)  
_**Il y a journalistes américains ici **_- There are American journalists here (Fr)  
_**Et ils ne parlent pas français **_- And they don't speak French (Fr)  
_**De rien **_- You're welcome (Fr)  
_**Hyung**_ (형) - Big brother (Kor)  
_**Wu liao **_(无聊/無聊) - Nothing better to do, boring, uninteresting...something along those lines, I have no idea how to directly translate this into English (Man)  
_**Kuai yi dian chi la **_(快一点吃啦/快一點吃啦) **- **Eat up (Lit: Eat a little faster) (Man)  
_**Gu shi **_(故事) - Story (Man)  
_**Ge ge **_(哥哥) - Big brother (Man)


	11. Chapter 075b

Papa Chéri

Chapter 0.75b:

_Paris, 1947_

"Réveille-toi Mathieu…c'est l'heure de se lever…"

The boy roused and rubbed his eyes sleepily, "Alf?"

"Non, c'est papa, mon cher."

Matthew blinked a few times, "Papa? Oh, papa!" He quickly shot the young man a sleepy smile, "H-hello!"

He smiled, "Bonjour. You pretty much slept through yesterday. You're in Paris now."

Amethyst eyes widened, "Pari!"

Francis laughed, "oui, bienvenue à Paris! Come on, up you get," he picked the boy up and brought him to the window, "do you like what you see?"

Matthew nodded excitedly, "Yea! Pari!"

Grinning, he took the boy into the bathroom, "well before we explore Paris, we should get ready, non? First, let's get you changed, look, papa even had new clothes brought in for you! Alors, le petit déjeuner…or 'breakfast' as you say, then we can go out and you can pick your own clothes out and we can also get you books and toys, d'accord?"

The blond dipped his head in agreement, "dacod!"

Giving a boy a kiss on the head after he brushed his hair, he smiled, "Très bien, Mathieu! What a fast learner you are! You will be fluent in French in no time!"

* * *

Francis blinked as the boy took a bite of his food and stopped eating, "what's the matter, Mathieu? Do you not like crêpes? Is there something wrong with them?"

The boy, a little cranky from having just woken up merely sulked and stared at his plate before slowly eating again, "sowwy papa…"

The man shook his head, "Non, non, you don't need to apologize, if something is amiss, papa will fix it…you don't have to force yourself to eat it." He stroked his beard and mused lightly to himself, "perhaps he's eaten anglais food for so long, he's unused to food that tastes good…he'll also have to learn how to use cutlery properly-never mind that…maybe he's still young…now what do small children like to eat…?"

Matthew stared at the Frenchman anxiously, "papa mad?"

He smiled at the child and crouched next to him, "of course not, I'm just trying to figure out how to fix this…is it the crêpes you don't like?" The boy shook his head. "Non? What was your favorite food back in Angleterre?"

"_Hey Mattie, guess what?"_

"_Yea Alf?"_

"_Cookie," his brother gave a wide grin and split his half a cookie in half, "here! It's a secret though!"_

"_Sewet?"_

"_Yea! Like…shhh, okay?" _

_A nod, "shhh!"_

"C-cookie…from Alf…" then he quickly covered his mouth when he realized it was supposed to be kept secret. Looking at the other, he raised a finger to his lips, "but Alf said shhh!"

Francis nodded seriously, "I won't tell a soul, je te promets." Getting up, he walked over to one of the shelves, "I could've sworn it was here…a-ha," he pulled out a bottle of something, "since you like cookies and sweets, perhaps the crepes wasn't sweet enough for you? An acquaintance from Canada gave us this…" he drizzled the golden syrup over the crepes. "There we go, now try it."

Matthew obediently did as he was told before visibly cheering up, "yum!"

The blond man laughed as the boy dug in, "aren't you going to say merci beaucoup to papa?"

The child quickly stopped eating and looked up, a wide smile on his face, "m-merci bo-coo papa!"

"De rien, Mathieu. Bon appétit." Happy, he petted the boy's head before returning to the stove to make his own breakfast.

* * *

After breakfast, the two went out and bought as much clothes, shoes and books as they could carry and were ready to retire when they hit the last store. Matthew's eyes widened at the sight of shelves lined with toys and quickly ran down the aisle, experimentally squeezing and hugging random toys. Francis had to suppress his laughter when he came across a stuffed owl asking the boy 'hoot?' every time he squeezed it.

"Mat'ew!"

"Hoot?"

"Mat'ew!"

"Hoot?"

"Mat'ew!"

"Hoot?"

Frustrated, he ran back to the Frenchman who hid his smile as he picked the boy up, "oh no mon cher, the owl can't seem to remember your name, can he? Let's move away from such forgetful toys, shall we? Next time he asks, you can tell him in French: je suis Mathieu, alright?"

"Je swi Mat'ew…" the boy muttered to himself.

"That's right, let's go look for other toys with better memories," carrying the boy down the aisle, he picked out a little hero figure, "do you like this one? It's a hero."

"Hero?" Matthew smiled excitedly, "buy for Alf?" Francis stared blankly at the toy for awhile, making a mental note to himself to ask the orphanage about that 'Alf' boy. "…non?"

He blinked, "Hm? Oh, non, of course you can buy it for 'Alf', we'll pack it up in a box when we get home and send it to him or something, alright? Make sure you remind papa though."

"Yea!"

Then the boy became completely entranced by a ball of white and reached out for it to no avail. Francis raised a brow and pulled the polar bear off the shelf, "this one?"

"We!" Holding the bear in his hands, he gave it a tight hug and stayed that way for awhile until he spotted the tag. Blinking, he held the tag up to the other blond with a questioning look on his face, "name?"

Blue eyes scanned the tag curiously, "It says…Kumajiro?"

"Kumaji'o je swi Mat'ew," the child beamed and gave the bear another hug.

Those were the only toys Francis ended up having to buy that day.

* * *

_Paris, 1948_

Francis turned and asked the boy sitting at the table, "Mathieu, que veux-tu manger pour le petit déjeuner?"

The blond happily replied, "Crêpes, s'il vous plaît!"

Within months, after being surrounded by the language, the boy had picked up so much French that he rarely spoke English anymore. Not that Francis minded in the least, he raised a brow, "again? Would you be so kind as to tell papa why you like them so much?"

"B-because," the boy had a habit of stuttering when he got excited, "the first things papa made me were…were…" he furled his brows as he tried to remember what word he'd wanted to say to finish his sentence.

Eyes widening, he ran over to the blond and gave him a hug, "you're so adorable! Papa will make you crepes with maple syrup everyday if you'd like!"

Matthew let out a squeal of laughter as the man's beard brushed against him, "papa, t-tickles!"

Francis couldn't help but chuckle himself as he placed a kiss on the boy's head, "and what shall we do after breakfast today?"

"Wash Kuma…Kuma…Kuma…" violet eyes stared blankly at the table in front of them.

"Kumajiro," the man supplied helpfully.

"Yea! Wash Kumajiro!"

* * *

_London, 1948_

Alfred stared at the black 'scones' in front of him. Although he'd gotten used to Arthur's cooking, this meal looked particularly scorched…and it wasn't as though he could taste it, but it was just so visually unappetizing. But looking up at the Englishman who had that smile on his face, he quickly stuffed one in his mouth, then another, then another, "ith'ly oo'aury!"

"Really now Alfred, how many times have I told you to swallow before you talk," the blond chided lightly, though he couldn't hide the pleased look on his face.

Wolfing down the rest of the scones that Arthur had destroyed, he chugged his glass of water and let out a content sigh, "I said that it was really good, Artie! It's even better than the stuff they used to give us!" He let out a yawn, "hey Artie, will you tell me a story?"

Arthur glanced at the clock, "I supposed it _is_ getting late, alright, let's get you ready for bed and then I'll tell you a story."

"Yea! I wanna hear a scary one this time!" Excited, Alfred jumped out of his seat and raced out of the room.

* * *

_Paris, 1948_

"Alright Mathieu, which book would you like to read tonight?"

"Papa and Mathieu's book!"

"Very well, Papa and Mathieu's book it is! You'll be reading with me, non?"

"Yea!"

Francis smiled and took the requested book off the shelf. It was the book he personally made to educate his son 'stranger danger', it was Matthew's favorite book, even more so than the 'what sound does a crocodile make?' book. The book always reminded him of his best friends and it always made him contemplate about bringing the boy to meet them, but then his fatherly over-protectiveness would escalate out of control whenever he thought of the worst case scenarios.

What if Matthew learnt how to swear from Lovino? What if he got lured away or kidnapped by Antonio? What if he started having too much fun by himself like Gilbert? What if he started reading manuals like Ludwig? What if he turned into an aristocrat like Roderich? Or violent like Elizabeta or Vash? …or worse, what if he ended up like _Arthur_? At these thoughts, he'd always reach the same conclusion: he'd wait until the boy was old enough to know what to learn and what _not_ to learn from people, _then_ he'd introduce him to the others. Until Matthew reached an age where he knew what was right and wrong, he'd continue reading this book to him.

Sitting down on the side of the bed, he flipped open the book and cleared his throat, "'what do you do when…? One day little Mathieu and his bear, Kumajiro were walking along and enjoying themselves when they came across several strange people. Luckily, Mathieu was very smart and knew what to do! So can you tell me, what do you do when…?

"'You see a drunk English man with thick eyebrows dressed in nothing but a butler suit?'"

"R-run away!"

"'You see a happy Spanish man who laughs like 'fusosososo' while trying to bribe children with tomatoes?'"

"Run away!"

"'You see a sad German man who has too much fun on his own and has a Hungarian woman behind him?'"

"Run away!"

"'You see a pretty Hungarian woman beating up a German man with a frying pan?'"

"Run away!"

"'You see an angry Swiss man with a gun, threatening to shoot anything that moves?'"

"Run away!"

"'You see papa?'"

Squealing happily, the boy launched himself into the Frenchman's arms, "Hug!"

* * *

_London, 1948_

"Once upon a time, somewhere in Russia, there was a man Ivan, who lived with his beautiful two sisters, Natalia and Katyusha. And there to serve them were their servants, Eduard and Raivis. The siblings lived happily for a very long time, that is…until one day, something happened and the family slowly went mad…

"Noticed anything at first, but slowly, the servants noticed that the eldest sister, Katyusha began distancing herself from everyone else though they could still hear her no matter where she went. And Natalia, she began developing a strong liking towards her older brother to the point of obsession, constantly asking him to marry her, even threatening him with weapons at times.

"But the person who changed the most was Ivan. Some say it was due to witnessing a bloody battle outside, others say it was because of the extreme cold, but the man went insane, murderously insane. The first to find out was Raivis, he'd already developed uncontrollable shivers due to his fear of his master, but being the smallest one in the household, he was the first to be eliminated.

"One day, Ivan returned to the mansion with a cursed water faucet, and wouldn't stop laughing 'кол-кол-кол-кол' and no one could figure out why. Suddenly, Raivis disappeared, and all that was left was a pool of blood. Eduard, who'd come to see the boy as a little brother began running around the mansion yelling Raivis' name over and over again as loud as he could. But he never found the boy. Instead, he disappeared as well. With both servants out of the picture, Ivan turned to his sisters.

"When Katyusha found out about her brother, she did the only thing she could. She ran away and hid from him, crying, 'Ива́н, Ива́н, мне жаль, Ива́н мне жаль', or 'Ivan, I'm sorry Ivan!' And for the rest of her life, she hid in the mansion, crying and hiding though all a person really had to do was listen for a bouncing sound to find her. But because Katyusha was the one who'd raised him, Ivan couldn't find it in his frozen heart to go after her, so instead, he went after Natalia, but unfortunately, she was a step ahead of him.

"She stalked him instead of the other way around, constantly chanting 'Брат, я тебя, давай поженимся. Давай поженимся. Давай поженимся. Давай поженимся, Брат', 'brother, I love you, let's get married broher.' Even under the influences of his insanity, Ivan knew enough to run away. And so, it because a vicious cycle of chasing and being chased.

"In the end, the family simply disappeared. No one really knew what took place in that mansion. But even now, when you step into the place, they say you can still see Raivis, a shaking boy crying, trying to find a way out of the house, and you can hear Eduard, calling out to Raivis, trying to find him…

"But if you're unlucky, you'll run into Ivan the Terrible and his sisters. First, you'll hear a bouncing sound, and a woman crying 'Ива́н' over and over again. Once you hear this, you'll almost definitely see a large man with a water faucet and a manic smile on his face, staring at you while chanting 'кол-кол-кол', and if he doesn't get you, when he disappears, there'll be a voice saying 'давай поженимся, Брат. Давай поженимся.' And you'll be chased down by a girl with a knife, and once you're caught, you'll never be seen again…"

Alfred stared at the Englishman with wide eyes, "that story can't be true!"

Arthur smirked, "how would you know, Alfred? Let me tell you, even now, every year, there are several reports of people that go missing in that mansion, and the people that somehow made it out alive after seeing one of the siblings, their reports are all consistent with the story."

Large blue eyes continued watching the man before slowly, "Artie, you'll stay here tonight, right?"

Not wanting to embarrass the boy, he laughed and petted him, "of course. Next time, I'll tell you about the time I saw that unicorn, alright?"

* * *

_Paris, 1948_

"Papa? Where are we going?"

Francis gave a sad smile as he wrapped the scarf around his son, "we're going to Canada, mon cher."

Matthew blinked, "Canada?"

"Oui, that's where the maple syrup you like so much, comes from."

The boy gave an excited smile, "r-really? Are we going to get more?"

He gave a small chuckle, "would you like to?"

"Yea! Canada! Maple syrup!" Quickly giving the man a kiss on the cheek, he beamed, "papa's the best!"

He could feel his heart breaking as he watched the boy run out to the car.

* * *

_London, 1948_

"Where are we going again?"

"Canada, I have to go for a business conference. Are you ready?" He turned around, "what on earth are you wearing, Alfred! It's winter, you can't just run out in nothing but your trousers!"

Alfred frowned, "but I'm not cold!"

The Englishman gave an exasperated sigh, "it's much colder in Canada. The snow will probably go up to your shoulders or something, lad."

The boy stared in disbelief, "really! All the way up to my shoulders! Cool! Let's go!"

"We're not going anywhere until you put something warm on!"

"But I don't wanna!"

"It's 'want to'!"

"Wanna, wanna, wanna! Wanna go to Canada now," Alfred laughed excitedly as he ran outside.

"Wait Alfred, it's cold outside!" Eventually, after chasing the boy out to the car, he managed to force a sweater onto the boy before driving off to the airport.

* * *

_Montreal, 1948_

Running a hand through his hair, he stared at the words written in front of him. He couldn't believe what he was about to do. With his hand trembling, he couldn't find it in himself to write anymore and so, hastily signed off the letter and got up. Walking over to the bed where the boy was, he sighed and picked up the stuffed bear that'd been kicked off to the side. Staring at Kumajiro for awhile, he couldn't help but give it a tight hug and muttered into its white fur, "please keep him warm and safe…make sure he goes with someone good who'll take care of him and will treat him like their own son…tell him I'm sorry, tell him I love him…tell him I didn't want to do this…tell him I'll think of him everyday, my poor sweet Mathieu…he's in your paws now…"

Letting go, he quickly walked back to the desk, grabbed the letter and folded it and stuffed it into the envelope and tied it around the bear's neck. Finally, he placed the bear next to the child and watched as the boy instinctively grabbed the toy and squeezed it tightly, a small smile on his face. Gently picking the boy up, he held his breath as he made his way out of his hotel room and down to the lobby where he'd bid his son a silent, final farewell.

* * *

_London, 1949_

Months after Matthew joined their family, the two sat in their beds, the younger boy watched his brother curiously. After they found him in the hotel, it didn't take very long for Alfred to jog the boy's memory as to who he was.

"_Artie, why doesn't he remember me? It hasn't been __**that**__ long!"_

_The man shook his head, "I'm not sure…well, you keep introducing yourself as Alfred, did he have a nickname for you or something back then?"_

_Looking up in thought, Alfred suddenly jumped up, "oh yea! Hey Mattie!"_

_Matthew gave a start, "o-oui?"_

"_Do you still not remember me? It's Alf!"_

_The boy's eyes widened, "Alf?" Then he quickly gave his brother a hug, "Alf! Alf!"_

_The older boy couldn't help but laugh as he hugged his brother back, "So you __**do**__ remember! Yea! Mattie remembers me!"_

Meanwhile, Alfred was trying to convince Arthur to retell the 'Ivan the Terrible' story since the younger boy had never heard it before. "Please? Artie, Mattie _needs_ to hear it!"

Arthur frowned, "what if he gets scared?"

"That's okay! He's got me, I'm a hero!"

"…alright…once upon a time…"

After Arthur finished telling the story and left the room, Alfred got out of his bed and ran over to his brother, "Mattie, are you scared?"

The boy blinked, "non…" but when he saw that his brother was quivering ever so slightly, he smiled and scooted over, making room for the other, "oui, it was really scary, Alf."

Giving a nervous laugh, he crawled in, "it can't be helped! You're such a scaredy-cat, Mattie! And you're speaking funny English again! Oh well, it's okay since I'm a hero, I'll keep you safe!"

The younger boy giggled, "Merci beaucoup, Alf."

Outside the door, Arthur smiled to himself before walking towards his own room.

* * *

_Paris, 1949_

Packing things into boxes, he faintly wondered what he should keep and what he should throw out. It hurt to clear out the boy's room, hurt to throw out toys and clothes. Picking up the hero figure he never sent to 'Alf', he contemplated it for a long time before finally throwing the toy into the box full of Matthew's books. Maybe one day he'd get it to the boy just like maybe one day he'd see his son again…

Unpinning all of the boy's drawings off the wall, he carefully arranged them into a neat stack before storing them away into the box as well. His breath was caught in his throat when he looked around at the empty room. Silently picking up the box of things he'd decided to keep, he turned and looked at the room one last time with cheerless eyes before leaving.

* * *

Nya~

Background to Mattie's love for pancakes and how Kumajiro came to be! And Francis angst! No, Mattie couldn't pronounce his R's when he was little, and I kind of got too lazy to type out everything in French. So you can assume everything Mattie and Francis said were in French. And unfortunately, my schedule has taken a turn for the busy and so, I will probably go back to (hopefully) updating once a week again. Only two weeks until I leave! Until then, thanks for fixing up my Korean! And sorry if I end up butchering any of the languages invovled with this fic, please tell me, I'd hate to look back some day to see that none of it makes any sense. I also thought about illustrating 'Papa and Mattie's book' but I ran out of time so too bad, maybe another time! As well...Eurovision! I have Norway, Denmark, Lithuania and Finland's songs stuck in my head! Especially Norway's, such a nice voice...mmm...I wonder who's going to win this year. Anyways, until next time, lurve you reviewers! Enjoy!

_**Translations:**_

_**Réveille-toi**_ - Wake up (Fr)  
_**C'est l'heure de se lever**_ - It's time to wake up (Fr)  
_**Je te promets**_ - I promise you (Fr)  
_**Que veux-tu manger pour le petit déjeuner**_ - What do you want to eat for breakfast? (Fr)  
_**Ива́н мне жаль**_ - Ivan I'm sorry (Rus)  
_**Я тебя**_ - I love you (Rus)  
_**Давай поженимся, Брат**_ - Let's get married, brother (Rus)


	12. Chapter 7

Papa Chéri

Chapter 7:

_Paris, 1962_

"Let's see," the Korean rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "it's been awhile since I've told that story…let's see if I can still remember it properly…"

Hong and Yao exchanged glances before rolling their eyes. The younger boy cut in, as monotonic as ever, "years ago, someone leaked information about Francis Bonnefoy's secret to the public. But the only thing the person really said was that the man was missing a 'Mathieu' and was willing to give a blank cheque to whoever found or had any valuable information as to where he was. So obviously, everyone went crazy and brought in whatever they had at hand and claimed it as 'Mathieu', and 'everyone' includes Yong-Soo."

Alfred raised a brow, "what'd _he_ bring?"

Yao sighed, "Himself, and he dragged everyone else along too."

"So then what happened?"

The Chinese boy shrugged, "nothing, the man walked into his waiting room, looked around at everyone and dismissed them all."

"No! That's wrong, you told it all wrong," Yong-Soo protested loudly, "you didn't even add in the alternative R-18 ending or the tragic amnesia!"

"Yong-Soo, don't yell in the restaurant," the girl shot back.

There was a long pause before the American slurped up the last bit of his noodles and asked disappointedly, "that's it?"

The Asian boy nodded, "yea, that's it."

"Oh, I was somehow expecting more," glancing out the door, Alfred stretched, "wow, the sun's setting already, maybe we should head back, Mattie. I want to see what Roderich's making for dessert tonight!"

Matthew smiled at his brother, "you can start heading back first, I'll catch up with you in a bit, I just have a couple questions I want to ask."

Shrugging, Alfred passed a couple bills to the Chinese man, "keep the change, it was super delicious!" Then he headed for the door, "I'll wait for you outside then. Don't take too long!"

* * *

Kiku raised a brow, "will Alfred-san be alright by himself?"

"It'll only take a couple minutes."

Yao crossed his arms, "maybe we should've warned him about those traveling vendors down the block…oh well…he's probably smart enough not to buy anything from them…"

"Oh well, I guess we'll find out soon enough. By the way, Heracles-san and Sadiq-san are on their way here, I think they're stopping by to see a friend first."

"Aiyo, those two again! What if they start another fight and mess up the store again? And one of them always leaves cats behind for some reason!"

"Ge ge, just let Kiku's friends come, I'm sure it'll be fine!"

The Chinese man pouted at the girl, "You always take Kiku's side even though you call me ge ge!"

Hong ignored them all with an impassive look on his face, "so what'd you want to ask?"

The Canadian gave a start, "o-oh yea, it's about Francis Bonnefoy…I was just kind of hoping you'd be able to describe what he was like…"

* * *

Alfred rolled his shoulders a few times, taking a deep breath and enjoying the air. He was a couple blocks down from the restaurant and surrounded by strangers. "Wonder how long Mattie's going to take…does he really think that that guy's his dad? Oh well, we're leaving soon anyways, I'd rather not get shot in Paris…" suddenly, a bit away, he saw a person sitting with a keffiyeh on his head, a pot, a dog and a cobra in front of him, "whoa," intrigued, he walked over, "I can't believe there's a live cobra in the middle of Paris!"

The stranger just stared at him for awhile. Then suddenly, there was a voice next to him, "you speak English? You know, he charmed the snake, he's telling you to kiss it."

Whirling around, he saw that a masked man was standing next to him, "what? He didn't say anything though!"

"Oh believe, me, that's what he's saying. Can't you tell? The way his dark Egyptian eyes are staring at you?"

"Why would he want me to kiss a cobra?"

A shrug, "he says it's a good luck charm."

Unconvinced, Alfred crossed his arms, "what if it bites me?"

The man looked over at the Egyptian who mutely returned the gaze, "uhh…he says it's an ancient Egyptian thing. Think of it this way, if you kiss it, you kissed a _cobra_! And if it bites you…well I guess that'd be that. Watch, he can do it just fine!"

Blue eyes widened as the boy went ahead and kissed the cobra's head without any signs of fear in his eyes, "he just kissed the cobra!"

The stranger's jaw was also slightly slack, "Wow…I mean, yea, look at that. He had no problem with that at all! By the way, he's daring you to kiss it now."

"Daring me," he looked at the other boy, "did you just dare me?"

The Egyptian merely stared at him.

"And he just called you a coward," the man quickly added.

Alfred bristled, "I'm no coward," he kneeled down and stared at the cobra for a moment before giving it kiss on its head before falling back on his butt, "oh my god I just kissed a cobra!"

Behind him, the man was trying to contain his smirk, "congratulations, you've been blessed by some Egyptian god now."

Then suddenly, the Egyptian spoke up, "…would you like to buy a pot?"

His brows furled, "a pot?"

The masked man rubbed the back of his neck and quickly made something up, "uh…it's a way to commemorate you kissing a snake and surviving…and of course, being blessed by a god and whatnot." When the boy looked confused, he added, "He says they're ancient Egyptian pots that only heroes who've kissed snakes can buy."

"Really! Cool!" Quickly buying one without further question, he grinned as he spotted his brother down the street and ran towards him, "hey Mattie, guess what I just did!"

The younger boy blinked, "…why do you have a pot, Al?"

"Because I kissed a cobra and now I'm a real hero and this pot's proof of that!"

Matthew stared at his brother in disbelief, "Al, I think you've just been scammed…"

"No way, this masked guy said the Egyptian kid said so!"

The younger boy spent the rest of the way back trying to convince his brother otherwise.

* * *

Sadiq let out a laugh as the kid disappeared, "how's that Gupta? I helped your business out a little! I can't believe he kissed your cobra!" Looking down the street, he waved to an approaching brunet, "hey kid, you'll never believe it, I got some English kid to kiss Gupta's snake _and _buy a pot afterwards!"

Heracles frowned, "…why would you…do that…stupid Sadiq?"

"Because I got bored of waiting for you! You're always late!"

The Greek huffed, "Oh yea…? You want to…fight?"

Crossing his arms, he glared at the boy, "bring it! I raised you for a good part of your life and this is how you repay me! …whatever! Let's just go see Kiku!"

"Not with…you! No-no-no-no-no-no, I don't want to…! Stupid, stupid, stupid Sadiq…"

"What are you? Twelve? Come on, let's get going already!"

* * *

"…so basically, you're telling me that this pot isn't special? And I just got ripped off by a street vendor?"

Matthew nodded, "I believe that's what I've been trying to say."

Alfred looked at the pot in his hand with a thoughtful frown, "then…"

"Then…?"

The American shrugged, "then I guess we found Artie's gift! It's not even French, isn't that perfect? Maybe he'll be able to store his scones in here or something…"

"Alfred!"

"I'm kidding! But yea, before that, let's talk about tomorrow."

The younger boy blinked, "tomorrow?"

"Yea, do you want to ditch? We can try Bonnefoy's house again just to make sure since you had that look back there. I'm sure Roderich and them will understand."

The Canadian shook his head, "that'd be too rude, they've put up with us for weeks now and to bail…we'll never hear the end of it from Arthur, and I'd feel terrible. Anyways, this is a different kind of important. Papa…papa's important to my past, but Roderich and them, they're important to my present, you know? And it wouldn't be right to neglect one for the other."

Alfred studied his brother for a moment before nodding, "alright, if that's what you want. You're too nice, Mattie. I can never keep up with you. But other than that, I'm going to try to get Roderich to spill everything tomorrow!"

"Spill everything? What do you mean?"

"I mean, I'm going to wait until he gets drunk and then find out what's going on between those three!"

Matthew furled his brows, "maybe you shouldn't…it could be private…"

The American laughed and patted his brother on the back, "Nonsense! Let's get back!"

* * *

So the next day, as expected they spent the day indoors and the night drinking. Alfred spent most of his time keeping an eye on Roderich, who was being forced by Gilbert to drink. He waited until the Hungarian girl appeared and chased the German off with a frying pan before making his way over. "Hey Roderich!"

There was a hiccup, "yes…?"

He blinked, "are you _that_ drunk? You didn't actually drink that much, did you?"

The man turned around, swaying a bit, "…no…?"

The American laughed, "You're _so_ drunk, who would've thought you'd be such a lightweight? But oh well, this is going to work even better than I thought. Since Gilbo wouldn't tell me and he looks like he can handle his alcohol, so _you_ can tell me what I want to know! What's with you, Gilbo and Elizabeta?"

There was a long moment of silence, "…Gilbo…Elizabeta?" Then suddenly, he found a drunk Austrian man hanging off of him. He couldn't tell if the man was crying or what, but immediately, slurred words began pouring out of the man's mouth, "I don't know! Why's my life so complicated? I was dating Elizabeta and we were almost engaged but then no," hiccup, "that idiot Gilbert…Elizabeta saw Gilbert practicing his congratulatory lines and she came _crying_ to me! And then Gilbert mentioned the possibility of moving away and then him and Ludwig disappeared for a week but apparently they only went to Hamburg to see if their old house was still there, but we all thought he was going to move out! Do you have any idea how worried we were? He's _Gilbert_! All he's good at is fighting and being a brother! How could I have gone through with it? We both care about him too much and it would've been awkward! He's such an idiot! I-it's like having a dumb pet you can't bear to part with! …and…and…"

Alfred stared at the man in shock as he began shaking, "…and…?"

Roderich suddenly snapped his head up angrily, "And _Vash_! He _still_ won't talk to me! It's been so many years! Why won't Vash come back to me? I miss Vash! No one piggybacks me or helps me out anymore! And people keep calling me frugal when he's even worse! But frugality's good and people should be more frugal! But…" there was a pause before he began stomping towards the piano room, "T-that idiot! I won't stand for it! This has to stop! And I'm all riled up now!"

The American sat there in silence for a minute as he listened to the drunk Austrian play piano before letting out a loud laugh, "so that's how it is…that was the weirdest thing I've ever seen, who would've thought Roderich would be such a bipolar and out of control drunk? That was definitely fun," he looked around, "now where's Mattie?"

* * *

Meanwhile, Matthew was sitting next to the Germans with Ludwig and his brother clearing mug after mug while to the side, the Italian brothers, Elizabeta and Antonio had passed out. After finishing another mug, Ludwig looked over at the three, though his face was a little red, his speech was still coherent, "maybe we should stop, Bruder, we're the only people left…" setting his cup down, he walked over to pick the Italian brothers up, "let's get them to bed…"

Gilbert pouted, "You're no fun West! Come back and drink with me!" But his brother already left with an Italian under each arm. Sighing, he looked over at the Canadian who was slouched over, shaking the boy's shoulder he frowned, "hey kid, you alright? No? Oh well, I suppose you can't be awesome as me," he chuckled to himself as he helped the other up and blinked, "huh? Why are you crying? Are you a sad drunk? …at least you're not like your old man or else you'd be in nothing but a butler suit and running down the streets by now!"

Just then, Alfred stepped into the room, "there you are, Matt-" he froze when he saw his brother crying against the German man and saw red. Running up to Gilbert, he grabbed the man by the collar and snarled, "what'd you do to Mattie? Tell me now or I'm going to beat your face in!"

* * *

_It'd always been like that. Ever since they were little, Matthew rarely cried since Alfred had always beaten him to the punch. And as a result, whenever the boy did cry, Alfred ended up overreacting. Like when they were in school and some Cuban kid mistook the younger boy for him and tried to pick a fight with him._

"_Oi Alfred, so you have the guts to show up, hm? I didn't think you'd be that stupid!"_

"_I-I'm not Alfred, and he's not stupid…please take back what you said…"_

"_What was that? I couldn't hear you, stupid Alfred!"_

_And when he got outside, he found his brother crying because his book had landed in the mud. He wasn't sure what happened after but he was nearly suspended afterwards but wasn't because Arthur argued on his behalf. Afterwards, the Englishman had told him "you did the right thing Alfred, sticking up for your brother, though you could've chosen better methods, it was the right thing to do. I'm proud of you, lad."_

_Although Arthur had sided with him, he still got grounded, and feeling guilty, Matthew stayed next to him the whole time._

"_I'm sorry Al, this is my fault. I promise I won't cry like that again, I'm really sorry…"_

"_What are you talking about, Mattie? Don't be stupid, it was all that guy's fault! If you ever want to or need to cry, just cry! I'll be there for you so it's fine! I'm your hero, remember!"_

_The next day, the Cuban boy bought a new book and ice cream for the younger boy and apologized for mixing the brothers up. In the end, Matthew became good friends with him and that was that._

* * *

Gilbert raised a brow, unfazed, "calm down kid, we were having a drinking contest. And your brother almost kept up with me and West but couldn't, that's all. Here," he handed the boy over, "you take him to bed, I'm going to take care of 'tonio and El'za."

Alfred blinked as he held his brother up and the man disappeared, "oh…"

"…hnn…"

Looking down, he tilted his head slightly, "what was that, Mattie?"

The Canadian was still crying, "Alf, où est papa?"

Helping his brother towards their room, he shook his head, "I don't know, Mattie."

"Why'd papa leave? Je veux le revoir…" the boy slurred drunkenly.

Throwing his brother onto the bed, he pursed his lips as Matthew curled up with his stuffed bear and cried quietly to himself. After a couple minutes, he slipped off to sleep. Rubbing the back of his neck, he headed back down the stairs, "I need beer…"

* * *

Downstairs, he found Gilbert there. Tiredly, he sat down next to the man, "hey Gilbo, I need a pint."

The German man did as he was asked, "s'not Gilbo. How's the kid?"

"Drunk and asleep? Sorry about earlier," he muttered sheepishly as he look a long drink from his mug, "I might've overreacted a little."

"Don't worry about it, if someone ever made West cry, I would've done the same thing since I'm an awesome brother." He put his mug down and laughed, "Can't really stand it when people cry, I remember last time El'za got drunk and started crying, she made me run all the way to Kiku's in the middle of the night to buy her…what did she call those books? Dou…jin? I don't know, they were called dou-something."

He groaned, "I don't know what to do. Mattie wants to find his papa but we're leaving tomorrow."

Gilbert raised a brow, "hn? Do you have any idea who or where this guy is?"

"Yea, yesterday, we came across someone that fit everything except we couldn't get inside to meet him…how are you supposed to get past a trigger-happy guard anyways?"

"Classical music always works," the German chuckled to himself, "especially if the guard's Swiss. Play the music and then when the guard's distracted, scale the fence or gates or whatever, that's the way to go."

"Hn…? Classical music? Well either way, we're leaving tomorrow so there's no point in talking about it. I'm not even sure I want Mattie meeting that guy, but he was crying…" giving an exasperated sigh, he took another drink, "I don't know what to do anymore!"

Red eyes studied him for a moment before sighing, "You know, normally, I wouldn't spend my awesome time lecturing you kids, but as an awesome older brother, I feel slightly obliged to talk you into making a decision of some kind. Look kid, you're his Bruder, you're going to have to know what to do by tomorrow. This isn't really over yet, is it? You have to think about your responsibility as an older brother, as your brother's older brother."

Sulking, he looked over at Gilbert, "you keep emphasizing that, but I have no idea what you're trying to say."

The man shrugged, "I'm just saying, you still have a chance tomorrow, so what are you going to do with that chance?"

"You mean whether or not I'm going to take the chance to try to bring Mattie to see his papa tomorrow? I know that as his brother, I'm supposed to support him the whole way and we'll still be brothers no matter what happens, but still…ugh, I need more beer," he refilled his mug, "I can't believe you guys buy beer in kegs."

"I can finish one of those by myself," Gilbert snorted, "you kids are just lightweights."

After another mug, Alfred frowned, "I keep thinking about it and I still don't know what I'm supposed to do! I know it's for Mattie, but…hey Gilbo, how do you know if what you do is in your brother's best interest-like how do you know if it's the right thing to do?"

"It'd make your parents proud," Gilbert replied simply, "Mutti used to me that little brothers and sisters are gifts…I remember when we were in Berlin, West used to hug me whenever I got home and he'd cry whenever I was hurt…I always thought that that was Mutti's gift to me so I wouldn't be alone. And in order to repay her, I took care of him and brought him to France… I like to think that Mutti, Alte Fritz and them are smiling down at me in approval. I mean, West is all grown up now and probably going to be an engineer soon…I feel so old…"

"Mum's gift to me…?" He rested his head on the back of his hand, "I suppose that's true…I mean Mattie…he used to pretend to be scared after Artie told us stories so that I'd be able to sleep in his bed…and when I left for America, he didn't say anything or cry because he probably knew that I wouldn't have been able to leave if he did…he's too nice and he apologizes for everything…I wonder if I've been a good brother to him…"

The German man ruffled his hair offhandedly, "don't worry kid, you're a fine brother. Not as awesome as me obviously, but you're a good brother. Look at you two are now, you brought him all the way here so he could look for his Vati. Even if you don't find the guy, I'm sure he won't think any less of you."

Alfred reddened a little as the alcohol was finally starting to take effect and he felt a little tipsy, "hey Gilbo, why do you sound so sober? Could it be that the more you drink, the less stupid you become? But that's not possible…but you've been drinking for a _really_ long time now! Are you trying to forget something or something?"

"Even if I drink all the beer in the world, I wouldn't be able to forget."

"Is that why you're not drunk?"

Gilbert laughed, "No, it's because I'm German and vair awesome! Maybe you should head off to bed, you're just a kid after all."

The American shook his head, "not yet! Tomorrow, I'm going to prove that _I'm_ the _best _brother in the world! You'll see! I'm going to make mummy and daddy proud!" He yelled, a little drunk, before stumbling off.

Raising a brow, the man turned back to his drink, "the best brother in the world, hm? Trying to beat my awesomeness? Good luck with that …" After awhile of drinking by himself, he laughed softly to himself, "kesesesese it's so fun drinking alone…" slouching over the table, he sighed and listened to Roderich's drunken piano playing, "beer always tastes better alone…a little salty but it's still good…"

Minutes later, Ludwig appeared and sighed, "Bruder? Are you crying again?"

Sitting up, he looked over, "West? I thought you went to bed."

Shrugging, the blond took a seat next to him, "I was going to, but then I thought it'd be kind of nice to drink a bit more with you, that's all…"

Gilbert grinned happily and clanked mugs with his brother and continued drinking. There was no doubt about it, Ludwig was the best gift Mutti could've ever given him.

* * *

The next day, just about everyone was hung-over. Matthew held his head as he tried to thank Roderich with as little words as possible, "thank you for letting us stay here."

The Austrian winced, "don't mention it, I hope to see the both of you again soon."

Elizabeta smiled weakly, "please come again, and give Arthur our regards."

After a lot of cringing and acute headaches, the two made their way out onto the streets of Paris. Matthew leaned against his brother, "I can't believe I drank so much…" sighing, he looked around, "hey Al…"

Alfred looked over, "Yea?"

"I'm really sorry. You took time off work and came all the way to Paris with me and it all turned out to be useless…"

The American shook his head, a large grin on his face, "nonsense! I'm going to prove you wrong!"

Matthew winced at the other's voice, "what do you mean? Where are we going? I thought we were going back to London."

"You'll see, but you're going to have to be prepared to ignore your headache."

"Wha-"

Pulling his brother by the arm, he picked up his pace and made his way down the streets, "let's go, Mattie!"

It was time to make mummy and daddy proud.

* * *

A bit away from the Bonnefoy mansion, Alfred hid behind a bush and began fiddling with something. Matthew frowned, feeling more awake, "Al, what are we doing here? You said so yourself the other day, we're going to get shot if we go anywhere near that guard! And what on earth are you doing with that pot?"

"I found a good use for it since it amplifies sound _and _hides things! See? It wasn't a waste of money after all! It's perfect for my amazingly awesome plan! With this, it'll keep that guard busy for a long while. But first, let's find a place to put our things so they won't get stolen," hiding their luggage behind another bush he went back to preparing whatever he was doing.

The blond shot him an anxious look, "why are you doing this, Al…?"

He grinned, "because I'm the best brother in the world, and since you're the brother of the best big brother in the world, isn't it obvious that I'd do anything for you? Watch and learn," placing his Dictaphone into the jar, he got up and disappeared for awhile before returning empty-handed. "Now just wait for it…"

A minute later, the sound of music could be heard from a bit away. The younger boy blinked, "is that Roderich playing the piano? Why does it sound kind of off? I still don't get it, you recorded Roderich?"

"Yep, apparently this works on all trigger-happy guards or something…I can't remember exactly what Gilbo said but this should work!"

"But it's just music…"

* * *

But true enough, they watched as the guard perk up and look around curiously. The girl blinked and asked him, "is something wrong, Bruder?"

"…that sounds like…" his brow furled as he listened, "drunk, angry and sad piano music…wait here, I'm going to go see what it is," he left his position, muttering to himself, "it _sounds_ like his piano playing, but it can't be, why would he be here, let alone drunk and angry…?"

* * *

Alfred shot out from the bushes, "yes, it worked! Come on Mattie, we have to scale the gates! Let's go, go, go!"

Dragging the other by the arm, the two dashed past the blond girl whose eyes widened but took no action to stop them. Alfred was ready to climb over the wall when Matthew pointed out, "Al, the gate isn't even closed properly!"

"Well that makes things easier, doesn't it," laughing, he ran through the gates and down the walkway, towards the entrance to the mansion.

* * *

Bursting through the front doors, they faced a surprised then angry Sesel who stood up from her desk, "you two again! How'd you get past Vash? W-whatever! Security!"

A moment later, a group of blondes with different Northern European accents showed up. The second tallest one was holding a large Viking axe and grinned as he turned to the taller man, "Hey Berwald, I bet I can catch those two before you or Tino!"

"Bror, you're annoying."

'Berwald' shot the man a glare, "s'not g'na happen, stup'd Mathias…"

"Should you two really be making a competition out of this?"

The youngest one popped a piece of licorice in his mouth before turning around, "…I don't get it…I'm heading back to the kitchen…"

The two stared in horror for a moment before Alfred dragged his brother through nearby doors and down a hallway, "why does this place have so much security? Why are they all _armed_? We're in _France_!"

Matthew looked back and began running faster, "A-Al, they're chasing us! How are we supposed to know where to go?"

The American looked around at all the doors around him as they stopped at a four-way intersection, "well in movies, rich bosses are always behind large wooden doors!"

"But they're _all_ large wooden doors!"

"Then the one at the end of the hall!"

"Which hall?"

From behind, they could hear the four catching up to them, "those kids are really fast!"

"Mathias, watch where you swing that axe!"

"Bror, you're really annoying."

Alfred studied all the halls frantically, silently doing 'eeny meeny miny moe' in his head until finally, he picked one of the halls and ran towards the last door, "come on! It's gotta be this one!"

* * *

As the two burst into the room, they spotted a very shocked blond sitting behind a desk.

Panting, the older boy called out to the man, "oi, you there! Are you Francis Bonnefoy?"

The man quickly regained his composure and frowned, "oui, I am Francis Bonnefoy. What business do you have with me?"

* * *

Nya~

Here's Francis, drunk Roderich, awesome Gilbo and violent Al! I bet you expected an epic lost-Mathieu story, but haha! Tricked you! Well, it would've been epic if Yong-Soo told it, but oh well. I hate how ff dot net doesn't let me type ! and ? one after the other. And what do you know, it's the middle of the night again! I'm also sorry if this chapter's kind of messy and long since if I continue with my schedule, I'll be finished hopefully right before I leave...and it's been a hectic week. And did I say I was leaving in two weeks last week? Well it's actually two weeks this week, a week an a half. How exciting...I hope I don't die or anything... And no, these characters don't really make many connections, do they? So I'm not going to lie, lately, I've been becoming a fan of Mangary, he's just so awesome... Anyways, as always, love you reviewers to pieces and please bear with me, I promise the next chapter will be better! Enjoy!

**_Translations_**:

_**Je veux le revoir**_ - I want to see him again (Fr)  
**_Bror_** - Brother (Nor)


	13. Chapter 8 & Epilogue

Papa Chéri

Chapter 8:

_Paris, 1962_

Solemn blue eyes watched them warily, "oui, I am Francis Bonnefoy. What business do you have with me?"

And just like that, Matthew could feel his mind blank out. He was so close…but before either of the brothers could get a word in, they were seized from behind.

"Gotcha! Hey, hold my axe, would you? Wouldn't want to accidentally lop this kid's arms off, remember what happened last time?"

The one with the hairclip took the axe with a frown, "how annoying, bror."

"S'rry for th'distub'nce h'rr Bonn'foy."

"Berwald, Mathias, try not to be too rough with them, they're only children!"

The tallest guard looked down at the one with the white beret and nodded, "…I'll tr'm'best…"

Alfred began struggling against his captor, "don't just stand there, Mattie!"

The tall blond glared at the boy, "Oi, stop flailing around! What are you? A fish? You're gonna hurt yourself like this!"

"The only person I'm going to hurt is _you_- and it's 'going to', you stupid Viking!"

"Vikings aren't stupid!"

"Yes they are!"

"_You're _stupid!"

"The person who calls another an idiot is an idiot himself!"

"Hold kæft!"

"…I know you are but what am I!"

"…I can't believe I'm seeing this. It seems like bror has met his match in this battle of wits…"

"Shouldn't we stop them?"

"Jus leav'em, Tino. S'only Matthias."

* * *

His mind whirled. They were going to get dragged away and he'd never get to ask the man who was sitting there-right there, only a few meters away, and he'd never find out whether or not he was papa. No. He could hear voices in his head yelling for him to do something, anything. Alfred made an opportunity for him and he couldn't just _waste_ it! He wasn't going to let another chance pass by him!

Ignoring the ruckus around him as the Danish man and his brother continued their argument, he opened his mouth and the words spilled out before he could think about it. It wasn't very loud but everyone heard it, "ê-êtes-vous mon papa?"

For a moment, everything went silent as everyone stared at him in shock and confusion. Grinning, Alfred quickly took the opportunity to break free from his captor and instinctively pulled his brother with him as he ran across the room but not before grabbing a stack of paper from the man's desk. He gave the younger blond an approving pat on the back, "good job Mattie, I didn't think you had it in you to raise your voice like that! Just wait, let's find something with his writing, then we can compare, do you have your letter?"

Matthew stared at his brother in disbelief, "n-no, I left everything in my suitcase. What are you doing, we're going to get arrested like this, Alfred!"

Flipping through the papers, the older boy gave a groan, "I can't believe you left it behind. Oh well, no matter, you're just going to have to distract them while I go through this stuff. Worst comes to worst, see the window behind us? Is it high? It can't be, we're still on the main floor, aren't we?" He glanced back, "…okay, it's higher than I expected, but whatever. So here's the plan: if they get any closer, we'll throw ourselves out, hope we don't die, and then file a lawsuit or something against them if we're injured!"

The younger boy paled slightly, "I _strongly_ disagree with this plan, Al. There's got to be a different, less life-threatening way to go about this…"

Looking around the room, he found the guards were slowly approaching them until the Frenchman, who'd rose from his seat raised a hand and shook his head. Although he expected the man to be angry, upon second glance, he realized that the man simply looked worn out. Straightening himself up, Francis Bonnefoy pushed his chair back though he made no move to approach them, "it's alright, there's no need for you to do anything reckless. Just tell me what you want…Alfred et Mathieu, non? Brothers, I recall Sesel saying …I thought you were American journalists."

"But I'm Canadian…" Matthew muttered quietly.

Meanwhile, Alfred paused in what he was doing to look up with a sheepish grin, "yea…no we're not. We're brothers but not journalists, that was actually a lie to get in here to talk to you, but that didn't work so we went with an improvised plan B instead."

Running a hand through his hair, Francis pursed his lips, "I'm afraid I don't understand what you're looking for here, I called off that search years ago, there shouldn't be a reason for people to bring _that_ up again. If you're in need of financial aid, I'd be more than happy to lend a hand but there's no need for you to go this far."

The younger boy shook his head frantically, "b-but it's not about the money, really!"

A sigh, "well then, please enlighten me because if you're just bringing up this subject for fun, I'm afraid I'll have to ask my security to escort you boys out."

Alfred frowned as he watched the other massage the bridge of his nose, "How do you know Mattie isn't _your_ Mattie? At least _look _at him!"

The French man shook his head and leaned against his desk, "Listen, I don't know how you found out about _my_ Mathieu, but for one thing, he did not have a brother. And another thing, I'm tired of having people come claiming they found my Mathieu, some have even come with excellent, nearly identical copies but they weren't him and I'm tired of people getting my hopes up for nothing, so please, just leave me in peace."

There was another pause as Matthew watched the man, the hurt obvious in his eyes. He wanted to reach out to the blond, but what if he wasn't papa? What if he brought up painful memories for the man for no valid reason? He watched as Alfred argued with the man and pursed his lips, tugging at the other boy's jacket, he spoke quietly, "Al…maybe we should leave…"

The American stared at him in disbelief, "_what_? What do you mean we should just leave? We risked getting shot, nearly had to scale a fence, and got attacked by _Vikings_ just to get here and now you want to _leave_? The only way I'll leave is through the window!"

"B-but I really just wanted to see if papa was alright, so even if he's papa, he's clearly doing well…so let's stop bothering him…"

Alfred shook his head fervently, "no way, there's no way I'm letting you walk out of here without knowing the truth! I know you, you're just too nice! I swear, if you ever get mugged, you'd apologize to the mugger for not having the money ready and for making him wait for you while you get your wallet out, hell, then you'd probably tell him to have a nice day after he's done! You never want to bother people, but you know what? Last night, I watched you crying while you asked me why your 'papa' left you! It's not just about you anymore! The second you start crying, as your official hero, it becomes _my_ business too!"

Staring at his brother, he was stuck between crying and laughing, but eventually settled for the latter, "thank you Al…I mean, I'm sorry…I mean…"

"Stop apologizing to me! You didn't do anything wrong!"

"Sorry-but I can't help it, I'm sorry!"

"You're doing it again!"

* * *

At the sound of laughter, he snapped out of his daze and turned towards the boys. He watched with widened eyes as the two bickered, one apologizing while the other telling him to stop, both laughing and yelling as though he and his security group weren't there.

That smile…

The boy's smile looked just like his Mathieu's. It was the same as the smile he received whenever he made crepes, whenever he bought the boy a new toy, whenever they read books together, and when he received his last _'bonne nuit, papa'_ from the child…the same smile as the little boy who made him feel like every day would be better than the last…

Mathieu…

But it couldn't be.

Not after all those fakes and imposters. What were the chances that the real one suddenly come breaking into his office after all these years? Sure, he'd always dreamt of the day where that little boy would come running back into his arms, but the pair in front of him weren't children, they were nearly adults, just like Mathieu would be if he were here now…

Suddenly, he felt all the time that'd passed him veer around and hit him.

It'd already been fourteen years.

Fourteen years of restless nights, nightmares of a little boy lost in the cold, crying for his papa…all those fruitless wishes and endless regrets. He ended up drowning himself in work in order to distract himself from everything. He'd tried opening a restaurant, but his menu only consisted of things Mathieu had liked…breakfast, lunch and dinner, he'd promised to cook for the boy everyday and he'd tried his best to fulfill it. He'd tried going into the fashion industry but his designs were all modeled on what he thought the boy would've looked good in.

He wanted to tell the boy he tried his best, wanted to beg for forgiveness, tell him that there were so many things he'd wanted to teach him…how to cook, how to identify scones and make excuses for not eating them, how to feed Pierre, all of them… He'd wanted to be able to watch the boy grow up, ask him how his day went, listen about his first crushes and friends and perhaps get jealous over them for stealing his son away.

He'd tried so hard to find the boy and yet there he was…standing right in front of him…

* * *

"Mathieu…?" The boys turned to see the man standing there, eyes wide, "I'd recognize that smile anywhere…but it can't be really be…" taking a hesitant step towards them, he frowned, "o dieu, please tell me it's really you…ah-where are you from, boy?"

Matthew felt his heart speed up. For the first time, the man was looking directly at him, it made him stutter, "I-I was at an English orphanage but then I was taken away to Paris for awhile… then I was left in Montreal…it was just me and Kuma…Kuma…" he furled his brows as he tried to recall the bear's name.

"Kumajiro," the man supplied, relief evident in his voice, "his name's Kumajiro, Mathieu."

"Yea-" his head snapped up as his eyes widened, he could feel tears welling up, "p-papa? Is it really you?"

Francis hugged the boy tightly, "Oui, Mathieu, c'est moi! I'm sorry for doubting you, it's just that there've been so many…I can't believe it's really you! I'm so sorry, …there were so many things I still wanted to tell you, to teach you…you were so young, time's gone by so quickly… I'm sorry, mon cher, just look at you! You're so tall now! And you have glasses! You're so grown up already! Mon cher, please believe me, there hasn't been a day where I haven't thought of you. I've missed you so much…"

He quickly hugged the man back, "I've missed you too, papa."

"D'aww, now isn't that cute?"

"…the moment's touching but the security guard's annoying, stupid bror."

"Ja, yo'r ru'nin t'moment, Mathias."

"What was that, Berwald? You want to take it outside?"

"Berwald, Mathias, please calm down!"

Alfred watched as the two hugged and though he wasn't sure what he was feeling at the moment, he couldn't help but sigh in relief to himself as he saw the expression on his brother's face. Looking down at the pieces of paper in his hand, he noticed he'd dropped one and picked it up. On the back of it, he found a child's drawing with the words 'Mathieu et papa et Kumajiro! Je t'aime papa!' written at the top.

A moment later, he found his breath squeezed out of him by his brother, "you did it Al! You found papa for me! You really did it! Thank you! You're the best brother in the world! I love you so much! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

He grinned proudly, "of course I did! I'm a hero, remember?"

* * *

After dismissing the guards and getting the room back in order, the two, mostly Alfred, ended up explaining everything that'd happened before and after Montreal to the Frenchman. Giving an understanding nod, Francis set his glass of wine down, "I honestly had no idea you had a brother, mon cher."

He gave a small smile, cup of tea in his hands since it helped with the migraine, "actually, I didn't really know either, it all just kind of happened…"

"So, are you two still living with this 'Artie' person?"

Alfred shook his head and took a bite of the burger that the man had ordered to be delivered for him, "Amoghd oo aeuhiha und Ma'ee en oo…hat aihn amough aeuhiha."

"It's called Canada, Al…" looking at the Frenchman, he gave a soft laugh, "we don't live in London anymore, Al moved to America and I moved to Canada."

Francis merely furled his brows, neither disgusted nor completely appalled. Instead, he mused to himself, "strange…somehow he reminds me of someone I know…or at least he was like that until he was bound to a chair and violently threatened…god bless that woman…"

Matthew sighed, "Sorry, Al's just like that, there's no changing him."

The blond smiled, "ah, I remember when you used to cry for your 'Alf', you'd run all over the house looking for him. I've only ever known him as the sleeping boy you said goodbye to in the orphanage, who would've thought he'd end up breaking into my office with my Mathieu in tow…"

Finishing his burger, Alfred frowned, "wait a minute, we told you our side of the story, now tell us yours." As the younger boy opened his mouth, his brother cut him off, "no way Mattie, this is practically the main reason we came to France in the first place! It's only fair that you get to know why it happened!"

"But Alfred…"

The man shook his head, "non mon cher, it's alright, your brother's right about this. There isn't much to tell, really, but before I start, please know that I never meant for any of this to happen, the last thing I ever wanted to do was leave you."

The boy nodded and swallowed in anticipation.

"As you know, during and after the war, France was in utter chaos. I had to relocate to England for several years during the war which probably saved my life as my house-more specifically, my parents' house had been reduced to rubble. And when they finally had it rebuilt and I was allowed to move back, on the way, my driver got lost and that's how I stumbled onto that orphanage you were in.

"Then I took you with me to Paris and everything was wonderful. My parents had moved to Lyon somewhere, they'd always moved around spontaneously so I didn't think anything strange of it until I found out what they did. Apparently, due to the war, like many other families, we'd lost most of our assets and money. And in order to fund the reconstruction of this house and our manner of lifestyle, they'd gone to loan sharks for the money, and when it came time to repay their debt, they called to tell me what they'd done before pretty much disappearing.

"At that time, I was about your age, perhaps a little older, and having lived in a wealthy family all my life, I'd originally planned on living off my inheritance so I had no job, no experience, nothing. And I wasn't the only one who'd suffered from the war, my closest friends too, had become close to bankrupt so they weren't any help. The only immediate thing I could do was sell the house and even then it wasn't enough to pay back the debt."

Alfred frowned, "wait, even if your friends were broke, couldn't you have asked them for help? Like, couldn't they have taken care of Mattie for you?"

"Mon cher, you have no idea how much money my parents borrowed, the loan sharks themselves were probably on the brink of poverty. It'd gotten to the point where several of the workers from my house were abducted, tortured, and some were even killed. How could I have put my friends and son at such risk?"

The American's brows furled, "So you left Mattie in a hotel lobby?"

"Would _you_ have risked a child's life? Even if it wasn't his life, would you have risked his education and future?"

Alfred shook his head disapprovingly, "Heroes don't do that."

"Well," he folded his hands in his lap, "I wasn't aiming to be a hero, I just wanted to do the right thing as a father… When I adopted Mathieu, he didn't even have shoes on his feet, how could I put him through that again? At least in the lobby of a five star hotel, the chances of him being taken in by a capable person who'd take proper care for him were higher as opposed to orphanages and whatnot. It pained me to leave him. But I can't say I regret it since I can see that I made the right choice regardless of what you may say.

"After the house was sold, I was literally homeless, at least until I managed to find a job at a restaurant that was owned by a kindly old owner who lost his own son in the war. He gave me a small apartment to stay at, and after he retired, sold the restaurant to me. Even though everything went smoothly from there, it took awhile to pay off the rest of the debt and once I did that, I began looking for you."

Matthew nodded, "but I wasn't in Canada anymore."

A sad smile, "non, you weren't, were you? Believe me, mon cher, I never stopped looking for you. I would've given anything to find you. You have no idea how afraid I was for you, but that matters very little now. Words can't possibly express how relieved I am that a good man took you in, even though he's English. And you," he looked at the older boy, "how can I ever repay you for bringing my Mathieu back?"

The American gave a loud laugh, "Repay _moi_? Don't sweat it! What'd I do for you anyways? Everything I did, I did it all for Mattie! Have to take care of my baby brother, you know?"

The French man smiled, "merci beaucoup, I'm relieved to know that he's in such capable hands." He turned to his adopted son, "Mathieu, you must tell me, why did you decide to come to Paris to look for me?"

The younger blond looked down at his feet, "w-well the thing is…I wanted to see if you were alright. Arthur told me that you might've had difficult circumstances so I wanted to make sure you were okay. …and I wanted to find out why I was left behind. Even though I'm really grateful to Arthur for taking care of me and Al, I still wanted to know why, because unlike Al who's always had Arthur, I've been left behind twice now and I just wanted to know if there was a reason why…"

The man's eyes softened, "I'm sorry I've caused you so much pain, mon cher, but you must know that none of it was ever your fault. You were the sweetest and most undemanding child I've ever seen, an absolute ange. If there'd been any other way, I would've thrown away everything possible to keep you by my side."

Alfred slung a reassuring arm around his brother, "he's right, Mattie, I can't believe you blamed yourself for something like that. How could you possibly have done anything wrong? And don't apologize."

Matthew reddened, "sorry, I don't know-sorry…I just…"

The elder pair laughed, "Don't worry about it, Mattie."

Francis picked up his wineglass with a smile, "so I suppose you'll be going back to London first before returning to Canada and America?"

He nodded, "Yes, that's basically the plan."

Alfred shot up, "oh right! I completely forgot about our luggage, I'll be right back, Mattie! Hopefully nothing's been stolen!"

Watching the older boy run out of the room, Francis laughed, "So that's really your brother, you two are practically opposites. Ah oui," he pulled out a hero figurine from his pocket, "I believe you'd wanted to give this to 'Alf' before but we never got around to sending it."

Memory flashing through his mind, he smiled nostalgically, "I forgot to remind you…"

"That's alright, you can give it to him now, non? I think it's a very fitting gift for a boy like him. I'm glad you have such a caring brother who's willing to go this far for you."

Nodding, Matthew beamed, "yea, it's great, I've got a hero for a brother!"

* * *

As they got ready to leave, Alfred happily shook the Frenchman's hand, "so you'll come up to London to visit us and Artie some time next week, right?"

"Oui, I never thought there'd be a day where I'd have to set foot into Angleterre again, but it's only right that I extend my gratitude to this man for taking such good care of my Mathieu."

"I-I guess we'll see you next week then…papa…"

"It's been fourteen years already but somehow, you're still as adorable as when I first laid eyes on you," Francis couldn't help but coo, giving the boy a kiss on the head. Then, he waved them goodbye, "au revoir, bon voyage, mon cher. Don't forget to run away from nude English men who have nothing but butler costumes on! And remember to run even faster if they offer you their 'scones'!"

The American laughed, waving cheekily at the Swiss guard as they passed the gates, "The French and English really have something against each other, don't they? He gives the same advice as Artie!"

Matthew smiled, "oh yea, here," he handed the toy over to his brother, "it was from a long time ago but I thought you might like it."

Looking at the figurine curiously for a moment, Alfred grinned in delight, "whoa, this is awesome! Thanks Mattie!" Slinging an arm around his brother, the two walked towards the train station, "Let's hurry up and catch the next train to Dieppe! It's weird, after listening to you catch up with your papa, I think I actually miss Artie."

The younger boy nodded, "yea, me too."

"You know, I've actually been thinking, when we get back, I'm going to make more an effort to get along with Artie. I mean, he _did _take us in and raise us. I wonder how long this resolution will last…?"

The Canadian shot him a happy look, "it's alright, Al. I'm sure that as long as the thought's there, you'll be able to see it through."

He ruffled the other boy's hair, "you're right! Thanks Mattie! Allons-y!"

* * *

At the booth, the American ran up and ordered, "Bonjour monsieur, deux _tickets_ pour Dieppe, s'il vous plaît!" Proudly, he spun around, "How's _that_ for amazing improvement, Mattie?"

"Is that all the French you picked up these past few weeks?"

"Yep! Is it awesome or what?"

Matthew laughed as the officer handed them their tickets, "awesome, Al, it's absolutely awesome. Come on, let's go home."

* * *

Nya~

What do you know? I finished! And I'm leaving Saturday so I'm ahead of schedule, I even read the third volume yesterday! Pffffttt it's soooo adorable! I hope this ending was passable to all of you readers (all of whom I love mucho). Don't ever mess around with loan sharks, the stories are real (according to the internet)! And now for all the thank you's! Thank you for putting up for my random injections of non-English words/phrases! Thank you for reading! Thank you very much for the reviews! I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please continue supporting me! Much love! Thank you!

_**Translations:**_

**_Herr - _**Mr. (Swe)**_  
Hold kæft! _**- Shut up! (Dan)**_  
O dieu - _**Oh god (Fr)**_  
Je suis vraiment désolé - _**I'm very sorry (Fr)**_  
J'y crois pas! _**- I can't believe it! (Fr)**_  
Mon pauvre petit _**- My poor baby (Fr)

And here's the epilogue! Enjoy!

* * *

Epilogue:

_London, 1962_

The doorbell rang.

Almost immediately, the older boy shot up from his seat and ran for the door, "hey Mattie, it's probably your papa!"

Matthew looked over at Arthur wringing his hands and straightening his suit, "there's no need for you to be nervous, he just wanted to come thank you."

"I know, lad, it's just that I'm not sure I'm going to know what to say. I mean, I should thank this man, for taking care of you before then get angry at him for leaving you, then thank him again because ever since you two came back, Alfred's matured quite a bit and we've been able to get along better ever since…ugh, I don't know how to react anymore."

"It's alright, Arthur, I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Mathieu, mon cher, have you gotten taller again?"

The younger boy laughed as he accepted the hug and kiss, "there's no way I could've grown any taller, it's barely been a week!"

"Oui, of course, you're right. Now where is this man who's taken such great care of you?"

Meekly, Arthur raised his hand, "y-yes…hello, you must be Matthew's pa-"

There was a long pause as the two stared at each other. Suddenly, Matthew had the life squeezed out of him by the French man, who, for the first time, had tears in his eyes, "o dieu, je suis vraiment désolé, mon cher! J'y crois pas! Je suis vraiment désolé! Mon pauvre petit! How could I have done this to you? Please forgive me! I sent you back to the very thing I wanted to save you from!"

Matthew blinked, "w-what's wrong?"

The words continued pouring out of the man's mouth, "I didn't mean to make you live like this! How terrible it must've been for you to have to live off 'scones' and 'burnt stuff' for _fourteen years_! I have no right to call myself your papa! Oh my poor Mathieu, I don't deserve you!"

Alfred looked over at his brother and shrugged, "at least his apologies are sincere, just look at those tears…"

"Oi, what on earth are you going on about, bloody wine bastard! Matthew's just fine-as you can see! My cooking's improved _immensely_," Arthur snapped.

Francis paused and looked at the other man before hugging the boy again, "I'm so sorry! Please don't hate me! This has probably ruined your life and taste buds for good! Mathieu, my poor, sweet Mathieu, why has life been so cruel to you?"

Matthew blinked, "Ça va, papa…"

"It's _not_ alright! But don't worry, mon cher, papa will take good care of you from now on! I'll cook for you three times a day, then perhaps your poor taste buds will be able to recover one day…"

"What are you talking about, you frog? I ought to kick you out of my house right now, but I won't since you're Matthew's papa… Honestly, lad, out of all people to bring back to London…"

The French man looked over and straightened himself, "non, you're right, for once…this is not the time to be arguing. We should be celebrating because after all these years, I finally found mon Mathieu…even though you've destroyed his sense of taste in every way possible… Anyways, tonight, we celebrate! I even brought the wine!"

* * *

Later that night, the brothers stared incredulously as the men, both drunk and laughing, danced happily together in the kitchen, wineglasses raised. And within moments, the pair began stripping down. Matthew quickly glanced over, "Al, what do we do? They've just become the very people we were taught to run away from…"

Alfred wrinkled his nose in distaste, "when did Artie get that butler outfit? Gross…" he shook his head and began heading up the stairs, "come on, we'll do as we were taught and run. Let's go upstairs, it's getting late anyways." Glancing back at his brother, he sighed, "it's alright, Mattie, they're adults, I'm sure they'll be able to handle themselves and their hangovers tomorrow."

Nodding, he poked his head into the kitchen and called out to the two, "goodnight Arthur, bonne nuit papa."

"Mattie, what's taking you so long? Come on!"

Smiling, he turned around and ran up the stairs after his brother, "coming!"


End file.
